


Porcelain Memories

by ReeMiss



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Dialogue Light, F/M, Fluff, Jane's a Dumbass, Mild Hurt/Comfort, introspective, not beta read we die like men, oneshots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29612343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReeMiss/pseuds/ReeMiss
Summary: A series of fluffy/introspective one-shots involving Jane, Lisbon and the CBI Team as they go through life staring down the darkest of human souls, and the little bits of comfort and joy they can give each other.
Relationships: Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon
Comments: 52
Kudos: 46





	1. Forget-Me-Not Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "When I die they can burn me in effigy or make a statue or forget about me completely... I couldn't care less", said Jane, carelessly.
> 
> Lisbon couldn't understand how anyone could bear to forget such a character like Patrick Jane.
> 
> Introspective Lisbon, set after the events of S4E09, 'Redshirt'.

_"When I die they can burn me in effigy or make a statue or forget about me completely... I couldn't care less."_

Lisbon sat at her desk working through the piles of paperwork that came with the end of a case. Yes, the team closed a case faster with Jane, but the paperwork that he racked up in complaints negated nearly all the time he saved.

And he never helped with them. 

The celebratory ice-cream they'd shared on the terrace cafe was nice, though. Not as nice as helping share the workload he helped create, but good enough.

The repetitive motions of explaining and subsequent apologizing on the various forms allowed her mind to hash over the debate she and Jane had had before their mutual love of ice-cream had ended all conversation. 

"You don't think that. Everyone wants to be remembered." Lisbon replied, unable to understand how anyone could tolerate the thought of being forgotten after death. Jane smirked, before calling it 'childish vanity'. 

But she wasn't ready to give up her more emotionally idealistic views. "I want to remembered after I die," she said, with narrowed eyes as she thought of her loving, messed-up brothers.   
_And if those punks don't give me a beautiful, **peaceful** funeral after all the crap they put me through, I'm gonna haunt them forever._

"And you shall be, fondly." Jane had responded quietly. 

For a second, Lisbon felt like she could see past his charming, smiling facade, straight through the bright blue eyes to the man who had lost the people who would've missed him the most. Who would have believed in the paranormal just so that they could imagine him with them no matter what became of his body. Who would have bargained with the devil to have him back for just another second. 

  
However, here he was, on the other side, bargaining with the devil to not put their spirits, but his own to rest. To wash away the guilt he drowned in. To drag him down and punish him for what he had done to the most beloved people in his life with his arrogance. If he didn't believe in the afterlife, he wouldn't have to face the thought of one day looking them in the eye and seeing their sadness and disappointment in him.

  
If death was complete, he could finally rest in peace, without the guilt, or pain, or anger that he had lived with for too many years to bear. If death granted him oblivion, he could continue to live with the fact that there was no one left to truly remember and miss him.

"Once you're dead, you're dead", said Jane, with conviction.

Lisbon snapped out of her minor epiphany, and was about to counter, before the waitress bore down on them with a treat to sweeten her temper. All thoughts of tributes and memorials out the window with a spoonful of vanilla sundae, they passed the time in easy companionship, arguing about superior ice cream flavours and squabbling over case details till they got back to the office and parted ways. Jane flopped down on his worn sofa in the bullpen and Lisbon retreated to her office to deal with the mountain of Jane-related complaints.

She sighed and stretched, startled to realise it had been almost three hours since. Walking out of her office, she spied Jane sleeping well in his corner of the empty room and softly approached him.   
Curly golden hair in its usual disarray, her fingers twitched to bring them to some order, like she used to do for her little brothers. His face was almost expressionless in slumber; not happy, nor sad, nor worried, and Lisbon wondered if he had trained himself to hide away so well even sleep wouldn't loosen him up.

She thought of how deliberately and infuriatingly obtuse he was.

She thought of all the fibs, the half-truths, the omissions he threw at her despite being her partner, the person he trusted the most.

She thought of how little he cared for her day-to-day problems and how little he thought of adding to them.

She thought of all the times she'd been a _hair's breadth away_ from punching his lights out for making her life so very difficult, rules be damned.

And then she thought of how much fun he brought to her life.

She thought of how often he would lighten up her mood whenever she was too serious, of how he would quip around if she was being too officious.

She thought of the stupid little nothings he did for her that somehow always made her feel better, no matter how trivial.

She thought of the way he was always sincere in a promise he made to her, even if he made himself a loophole to jump through later.

She thought of how boring and monotonous her life had been before him.

She thought of the burden he carried inside, of the damned, spartan path he had chosen for himself to avenge the loss of those he'd loved best, and how he kept himself aloof to avoid repeating history.

How she knew as much about him as he did about her, even if she learned through time, and he did from observation.

She thought about a day when Jane finally _did_ get to Red John, and went through with the promise he'd once implied, of not surviving the encounter. Of finally wresting from fate what he thought he deserved, as if it would restore what was lost.

And deep inside, in a place she hid away from the light, she wondered if she would bargain with all the demons of hell to see him smile at her again. She would never be able to see magic tricks, a teacup, a blonde man in a three-piece suit, or a winsome grin without remembering the broken, incredible man who had made a place for himself in her heart, right alongside those she loved best.

Yes, he would be a better memory alive rather than not.

  
Reaching out, she stopped short of touching his tousled head, and thought,

_"I'll always remember you, Jane. Even if you never help me with the damn paperwork."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had too many feelings about Jane thinking he doesn't have anyone left to really miss him.  
> You're a dull boy, Patrick.
> 
> My first fic as a grown ass adult, I genuinely thought I'd never do it again. I'm so happy there are still so many Mentalist fans around after so damn long!
> 
> Thanks for reading! ♡  
> Ree


	2. Apple Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was such a little thing, but simply freshening up was enough to make her feel better. She knew that nightmares of waiting to burn alive would come later, but for now, she felt clean and smelled good.  
> She was alive and there but for the grace of God, she was going to fight to stay that way.
> 
> Set after S3E08, 'Ball of Fire'.

" _Ugh_...", groaned Lisbon as she wiped the sticky blood off her neck. Wet napkins were piling up in the sink, and she was stripped down to her bra to get the unholy stench of dead matter out in the California heat off her skin.

"Damn it, Jane, _why_?", she grimaced, still smelling Kittel's decomposing body on herself.

There was a light knock on the bathroom door, and before Lisbon could answer, she heard Van Pelt speak through. 

"Boss, I've got the spare clothes from your office, do you need any help?"  
Lisbon opened the door a crack and grabbed her clothes. "No, Van Pelt, it's all good, thanks."   
Van Pelt made a 'wait' motion before Lisbon could shut it, and she peered at the younger woman who held out something almost shyly. Lisbon looked down, and saw a tiny little bottle of perfume.  
"I know the smell of decomp isn't going to move unless you scrub yourself with steel wool in the shower, and you probably want to stay and finish paperwork... So, I thought this might help."

Lisbon hesitated for a second, thoughts about weakness and authority running through her head before looking at Van Pelt's kind green eyes and accepting the offering.  
"Thanks." The redhead smiled, relieved her boss didn't take offence. She knew Lisbon was a good person, but stuck too closely to professionalism and didn't quite know how to accept personal help.

"No problem, boss, It's hard to concentrate on anything when you constantly feel like something from the morgue."   
" _Ugh_ , tell me about it." She rolled her eyes. "I really appreciate it, Grace, thank you.", Lisbon continued with a grateful smile.  
Van Pelt grinned in reply and left Lisbon to clean herself up.

Once every inch of her skin was back to its pristine pale state, she spritzed quite a bit more of the perfume than she would have usually applied. It smelled soft and fresh, like an apple orchard, and she sighed in relief.

It was such a little thing, but simply freshening up was enough to make her feel better. She knew that nightmares of waiting to burn alive would come later, but for now, she felt clean and smelled good.  
She was alive and there but for the grace of God, she was going to fight to stay that way.

She quickly tidied up the bathroom and walked out to her office. Stopping at the kitchenette, she poured herself a cup of hot coffee before seeing Jane perched on his couch, staring into space. Grabbing her cup, she ambled over to him, her footsteps echoing in the now-empty bullpen. 

"So what was it like, being kidnapped?", she quipped, and Jane snapped out of his reverie to settle himself comfortably before giving her his trademark smile. "It was a new experience, that's for sure. Not like I couldn't have handled it."

Lisbon snorted at that, sitting down next to him. She would never admit to the gut-wrenching fear she had felt the second she'd heard the first gunshot on Jane's end of the line at the fruit stall a far ways away from Sacramento.  
"What?", responded Jane defensively. "Even as a kidnapping victim, I helped you guys solve a case."

Lisbon rolled her eyes before pointing out that it was Hightower and the team that had done all the work, without his help.

"Admit it, you guys can't function without me."

That got him a punch on the shoulder. Lisbon sank deeper into the couch, grateful to feel said shoulder leaning next to hers, safe and sound. She didn't know exactly when her feelings for the consultant changed from partnership to the warmer, more intimate emotions that newly charged her, and she had no real intention on acting on them. He was a colleague. Granted, she didn't feel the same exact feelings for, say, Cho, Rigsby or Van Pelt, though she cared for them deeply. 

Jane was a broken man charging down a path she knew she couldn't approve of.   
Would she follow him to the end? She would, if only to make sure he got out of it alive, but not without trying everything in her power to change his mind about the self-destructive road he was determined to go down.

She could never tell him that though, for fear of giving him the idea that she would give him free rein over the darkness that had recently threatened to erupt in his soul, constantly. She knew that he could tell whenever she was upset about his state of mind and would conveniently change the subject or skip out of the room to avoid the blistering lecture he knew was coming his way.

For a man that exuded the charm and the look of the sun, she knew better than anyone around that what lay ahead could turn him into an inhumane monster. And for all that he was an absolute pain in her ass, Lisbon wouldn't let it happen.

Jane slouched further his seat, clearly exhausted, but unable to sleep. He simply put his head close to her neck and sniffed.   
She fought the blush that threatened to take over with practiced ease and moved away slightly.

"Why do you smell like apples, Lisbon?" 

"Oh, Van Pelt lent me her perfume." Her nose crinkled at the memory of the ripe, metallic scent of the dead man's blood they'd wiped onto her to put Jane's plan into action.

He shot her a guilty smile, still lightly sniffing at her nape. "You know I had to buy time... Didn't see you coming up with anything."

Lisbon huffed, deciding that he had suffered enough for the day without adding her right hook to it.

"Speaking of, where's my apple?", she asked, putting her hand out in front of Jane. He reared back, offended.

"I was too busy getting _kidnapped_ , Lisbon!"

"Excuses, excuses..."

They sat together for a while in the worn down couch, bickering over failed responsibilities, feeling a sense of gratitude for the unlikely friendship that soothed both souls and allowed them the hope that they would always get through anything if they had each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda want to explore the little signs of care the CBI team and Jane share between the scenes.  
> After you're covered in goopy blood, another woman would most likely understand the feeling of wanting to smell decent, almost like anointing the trauma away.
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> Ree ♡


	3. Bitter Orange

"Hey, Cho, got a minute?"

Jane walked into the bullpen, one hand balancing a cup of tea on a book while the other held a paper bag. 

Cho barely looked up from his paperwork, muttering a quiet, "sure".

The consultant sat down on the chair next to Cho's desk, setting the bag down before carefully taking the full cup off his book. He looked at Cho, who continued plodding away at his case files, not ready to give Jane his entire focus just yet.  
Whatever the blonde man had to say couldn't compete with the truckload of forms that came with the end of a case.

Especially if he was the _r_ _eason_ everyone was swamped with more work than they'd dealt with before his appearance. Half a decade later, they continued to solve murders at an astronomical rate, but Jane's apparent freedom to act on will still gave them more paperwork than they had the time to finish.

That's why, when most of the CBI building was empty with people going home for the day, Lisbon's team stayed in, dogged down with piles of the stuff.

Jane simply sat in his seat, sipping his tea and quietly watching Cho deal with sheet after sheet with the efficiency of an experienced grade school teacher marking math homework. _Stoic_ couldn't begin to describe the ex-military man, not an expression on his face most of the time. The mentalist in Jane was always interested to work with Cho, because he was so difficult to read, but what he did read was exactly what they got.

He was a simple man with simple opinions, and the epitome of a solid, dependable man of justice. Jane was never excited to plumb his depths, the way he was with Lisbon, but this man was a fun puzzle to decode from time to time.

And recently, Jane had noticed Cho being even quieter than he usually was. Where two words would be used, he now used a monosyllable. Where one was needed, he used a motion.  
His temper was a little shorter than usual. His eyes were slightly droopier and Jane was mildly terrified to find the faintest hints of dark circles under them.

Not that anyone ever noticed any differently. To the world, he was still good ol' reliable Cho.

But for him to be losing sleep, something catastrophic had happened. The past few weeks, he had actually been more lighthearted (in as much as Cho could be), and Jane once saw Rigsby make a crude remark to his partner.

And with Jane's almost omniscient knowledge of office gossip, he'd heard tell of agent Cho _kissing the hell out of a blonde lady in the CBI elevator._

Having met Cho's CI, Summer, the consultant knew she was way different than Cho's usual type of girlfriends, especially because she was clearly a working girl. She pushed him far more than anyone around him dared to, and had rattled him in public, an almost unforgivable offence to the quiet man. Summer looked like she was aptly named, a pretty, vivacious woman who refused to be put off by Cho's reticence.

Of course, with her working past, and possible drug abuse, she would never be able to stay with Cho for too long.

So they must have broken up.

Jane always hated the idea of star-crossed lovers.

He had lost the loves of his life, and _detested_ seeing other people lose what could have been through 'circumstances'.

Jane was also very, very sure that the reliable, trustworthy agent Cho used to be dependent on painkillers, after hurting his back in the course of a takedown.  
He knew that Cho was in pain for a long while, and had started to notice that the pill box he usually kept in his drawer made an appearance more and more often on his desktop, till it simply vanished.

Losing his girlfriend and going through withdrawals with barely any outward change.

No wonder his old gang name was 'The Iceman'.

As usual, no one else seemed to notice a damn thing, and Jane had only realized it when he observed Cho being a little more attentive to Rigsby, apparently trying to atone for something he simply couldn't figure out.

So here Jane was, ready to take Cho out on a night on the town, if only he could get him to look up from the damn paperwork.

"What is it?", asked Cho, relatively unfazed by the long searching silence that Jane had kept since he'd sat down.

"I've got a bag full of money, and a book showing me the best sports bars in town. You in?"

"No, I've got paperwork to do."

Jane refused to be put off by the swift shutdown.

"Oh, come on Cho, live a little." He leaned in. "Don't you want to know if you can beat me at darts and foosball? Make some money off it in the process?"

"I don't want any of the money in that bag if it means more paperwork from people complaining you defrauded them. And you're a carny man. If you don't know how to accurately throw darts, I'll sing MC Hammer on the table." The agent never stopped writing once during the explanation.

"Come _on_ ", whined Jane. "Rigsby's all fired up, are you willing to let your partner be conned out of all the money in his wallet and his hopes and dreams?"

Not a eyelash flickered. 

"Rigsby's an idiot if he thinks he can still take you on, and you'd only take all his hopes and dreams if you asked Van Pelt out."

"I'll steal Lisbon's shoes if you beat me at darts."

"You'd do it either way any one of these days, not interested."

"I'll buy you coffee for three months."

"I'm cutting down on caffeine." (Jane snorted at that one.)

"Fine", said Jane, getting up with the air of a man with an offer no one could refuse. He smirked down at Cho, who finally broke eye contact with his desk to look up at the blonde man.

"I", started Jane with a flourish, "will finish your paperwork for the next two weeks if you can beat me at darts."

Cho's eyes widened infinitismally.

Freedom from endless forms. Freedom to leave at a reasonable hour and spend a quiet evening reading. 

The chance to watch Jane deal with the aftermath of the havoc he wrought.

He slapped the file shut. "So when do you want to go?"

Jane grinned.

____________________

"We've got Cho, 0, Jane, 8, Rigsby 32. Cho wins!"

The crowd around the dartboard cheered, liquored up and buzzing with the excitement of the deft game between two of the players.

Jane smirked at Cho, arrogant even in defeat. 

"You only got it because I tripped you up at the second throw. You would've gotten an 18 and wouldn't that have made me champ?" 

Cho smirked right back with, "You tried to trip me to get me to lose, which makes all your big talk worthless. I expected a better attempt at cheating, Jane."

"Me? Cheat? Please, I'm every inch an honorable sportsman", responded Jane, smoothing down his three-piece suit. 

It was Rigsby, on a high seeing his partner best the almighty Patrick Jane, who quipped, "Yeah, about as honorable as Lisbon with the last cup of coffee at stake." 

"Oh, come on, I didn't barricade you from the dartboard, she did that with the entire pantry."

Rigsby went off to get a round of beers at the bar, leaving Jane and Cho to find their table at the edge of the dimly lit bar. Cho had his back slapped a few times in hearty appreciation of his skills at the dartboard before they got to sit down.

"All good, Cho?", asked Jane lightly, seeing Cho relaxed and limber. The hefty price of the godawful paperwork was almost, _almost,_ worth seeing his friend finally loosen up after what had to be weeks of emotional and physical pain.

Rigsby appeared with two beers in hand, handing them to the other men before leaving to get his own. Jane and Cho clinked bottles and sat in comfortable silence, sipping the booze and letting it mellow them down even further.

"You know, don't you?"

Jane turned in his seat. "What do you mean?", he asked innocently. 

"About the pills."

"I figured it out, yes. I just wanted you to relax, my friend."

"How'd you know about it?"

"You've always been discreet about everything you do, but the pills started to make more of an appearance. Even Rigsby had commented on your using them a while after your injury was supposed to have healed." Jane shrugged. "But no one would ever connect the steady agent Cho with something so mistakenly human as taking comfort in medication. Not that I would ever judge you for it, I've done plenty of questionable things in my life to ease my pain."

Cho sat still, taking in Jane's words, unable to forgive himself for such a lapse in common sense and morality, but finding acceptance anyway in the absolute lack of judgement.

People so often forgot, intensely private and closed-off as he was, that Cho was still a man. A man who made a mistake, and had to pick himself up, remind himself that he was human, chalk it up to experience and move forward with the intention to never repeat it again.

"I reckon you've done the hard bit. Forgive yourself and you're almost there."

"Have you?" Cho looked intensely at Jane, trying to brush off the moment of vulnerability by passing it off to the consultant.   
"I don't think I can. It's not up to me to grant forgiveness", Jane replied slowly, his usually smiling eyes shadowed in the dim room. "But I hope for peace, one day. That I will finally do something to earn it."

"Kill Red John."

"Yes."

The agent looked at Jane, and with absolute loyalty exuding from him, he replied, "You'll find him. And we'll help you get the justice you want."

The blonde man raised his bottle to his friend, before sitting up in his chair, all signs of the devastated man hidden behind his usual cheery mask set firmly in place. Rigsby reappeared in a few moments, apologizing and complaining about the long wait for the restroom.

"Now, if I recall, Cho", started Jane, "You mentioned singing MC Hammer on the table if I lost..."

_____________________

  
"Cho, come on, you didn't even sing. You reneged on your half of the deal!"

Cho took his jacket off his chair and shrugged into it, not looking at Jane who seemed near tears at the pile of paperwork he had promised to complete if he was bested.

"I never agreed to sing, I simply stated that the likelihood of you losing at darts was the same as me singing on a table."

Jane swung back in his chair to look at Rigsby, who was staring at his PC intensely in an effort to ignore the whiny consultant.

Lisbon walked into the bullpen, radiating sheer vindictive pleasure at Jane's predicament. "Heading out, Cho? Have a good one."

"You too, boss. Night Rigsby, Van Pelt, Jane."

Jane stared at Cho's retreating figure, before looking at the hill of forms that threatened to fall over any second. He turned beseeching eyes to Lisbon, who shrugged, smiled absolutely sweetly and said, "For once, you're pulling your share of the team's work. Welcome to our side of the desk. Maybe this will get you to rethink your irresponsible schemes." Van Pelt and Rigsby snorted at their respective desks as Jane wilted in defeat. "And if I see you trying to 'suggest' or hypnotize someone into doing it for you, I'll double the sentence."

Lisbon walked over to Van Pelt's table and whispered, "Drop a couple of your files on his table, if you want to get out early."

"I heard that!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always wondered what happened to Cho after Summer left and he realized he truly was addicted to painkillers.
> 
> I think Jane would've helped him silently somehow. :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> Ree♡


	4. Pink Frosting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was INCREDIBLY self-indulgent.
> 
> I wrote it waiting for a software to download ;n;
> 
> (I AM SO SORRY, I NEVER EXPECTED THIS CHAPTER TO BE SO LONG)

The night was serene, the warm breeze picking up her hair and harmonizing with the chirping of cicadas, the moon bright enough for Lisbon to watch her surroundings with relative ease. She stretched her legs, working out the kinks in her neck and arms as she took a little while to herself before the takedown.

"Here." A hand appeared in front of her, clutching a plastic cup of iced tea which she gratefully accepted. Jane settled himself onto the "death contraption", as Lisbon called his car, own tea in one hand while the other stayed behind him. The Citroen was parked a few yards away from the house they were watching, waiting for the moment the undercover placed inside gave them the signal to move.

Lisbon turned to the consultant. "Where on earth did you get this from, Jane?"   
Jane smirked, finally revealing the box of strawberries in his other hand. The senior agent was distracted for a second by the luscious red fruit. She took one with alacrity, sinking her teeth into the juicy flesh, sighing with pleasure as she savoured the tart sweetness.

Jane simply watched Lisbon as she relaxed for a single moment. Her hair slightly tousled by the wind, pale cheeks flushing as if the juices of the strawberry coloured her skin through osmosis. He couldn't keep his eyes off her pouty lips enveloping the fruit and immediately committed every single detail of the sight into his memory palace.   
Truth be told, he knew his palace had undergone recent renovations, adding more and more rooms to accomodate all his memories of Lisbon till it was no longer as stark and cold as it used to be.

This particular event went straight into the smallest room, the one he kept tightly locked for fear of letting it take over every other room in his mind. The room that he never, ever opened up except for those days that he couldn't will away the curious yearning to have her. Better he use those memories than the real woman; she was too precious to him to let her ruin her life with a man as damaged and selfish as he was.

Lisbon finished her strawberry and Jane immediately schooled his features into the trademark smile he used to keep everyone away.

"We passed a convenience store tucked away a couple of blocks back", Jane shrugged carelessly. "I knew you hadn't eaten dinner, and undertaking a stakeout with a hungry Lisbon in my death contraption is mighty dangerous."

Lisbon huffed in annoyance, rapt rejoinder already in play even as a small part of her warmed at thought of him noticing things for her welfare.  
He noticed many, many little things, but he rarely went out of his way to yield to someone else's comfort the way he did for Lisbon.

And she noticed it. She always noticed it.

How it made the part of her she always kept hidden away beat a little faster. She kept it under lock and key, stuffed it into a metal canister with a warning label and shoved it into a little pocket, but these moments of kindness from Jane always made her feel like the canister was about to overflow.

She took a couple more strawberries.

"And whose fault was it that I had to miss dinner to finish the complaint forms after you insinuated the guy was having an affair in front of his wife?"  
"He was, Lisbon! His wife had a right to know her husband was a lousy, faithless rat."

"You keep your personal views out of the interrogation room!"  
"Ehhh, Lisbon, not all of us can act as perfectly professional as you boring lot." Jane's hands reached out in supplication.

"I gotta do me." 

"Then do your paperwork by yourself too."

Lisbon rolled her eyes, before wiping her hands and clapping. "Break time's over, everybody back in class."

The consultant gave a jaunty salute, "Aye, aye, cap'n", before getting off the Citroen's hood and making his way to the driver's seat.

Once they'd settled in, Lisbon could see Jane fidgeting out of the corner of her eye. "What are you, seven? Why are you so restless?"

A sigh. "I'm bored, Lisbon. Wanna play a game?"

Lisbon shifted away to look at Jane increduously. "We're still working, Jane!"

"Yeah, but it's atleast another forty-five minutes to showtime, and I'm pretty sure Cho's reading something to pass the while."  
He picked up the radio receiver. "Hey, Cho, whatcha reading?"

"Crime and Punishment."

"Ah, Dostoevsky. A little too on the nose for you, Cho, but a classic nonetheless."

"It is."

And that concluded the conversation with Cho.  
Short and succint, just like the man.

"See?" Jane turned to Lisbon, who could hear the whine creep into his tone.

God, she could already feel the headache rallying behind her eyes.

"Fine", Lisbon huffed. "What do you want to do?"

"Never Have I Ever."

"No! And that's a drinking game."

"We don't need booze to have a good time, Lisbon, isn't that what you cops preach to teenagers all the time?"

"No."

"No, you don't or not that game?"

"Not that game."

"Okay...", sighed Jane, already running through his (admittedly) large arsenal of party tricks and games.

"What about Truth or Dare?"

He could almost _hear_ her eyes roll this time.

"What the hell, Jane, why are you so into these slumber party games?"

Jane lifted his shoulders. "Have you had much experience with teenage slumber parties then?" 

Lisbon paused, uncomfortable with the path the conversation was sure to take. She knew that he knew what her teenage years were like. He knew that she'd had little time to frolic between taking care of her alcoholic father and raising her three little brothers singlehandedly. She hated that he'd figured out what she never spoke of to any other person.

"Went to one, in high school. Wasn't all that much fun. We watched movies, ate some junk, spoke a little and went to sleep." She remembered thinking, 'this was not how it was in the movies.'

Jane watched Lisbon reminisce, feeling guilty about bringing the topic of her childhood up. It was near instinctive, because when a person thought of games, they thought of their childhood. Few ever experienced the agony of becoming a responsible adult at the tender age of 12.

Even Jane, with his nomadic early life and exploitative father, had a few memories of running free and goofing around at that age.

It broke his heart.

Right then and there, the ever moving cogs in his brain whirred into speed, formulating a plan to give Lisbon a good memory.

He wanted her to be happy.

Lisbon waited for Jane to respond, resolutely looking out the window at the foliage glowing in moonlight and battling the sadness that usually accompanied memories of that time.

Her nerves were almost frayed before she turned, waiting for the next irritating comment to come out of his mouth, only to be see the blonde man deep in thought, silently looking at the house they were out to surveil. His eyes were a little morose, and Lisbon could see it wasn't his usual depression that had taken over.

Before she could open her mouth to comment upon it, Jane startled her by looking her straight in the eyes, the expression morphing to excitement.

Excitement in Jane might make the compassionate side of Lisbon happy, but it made the rest of her cold with the thought of _more_ complaints headed her way.

"What are you so happy about?", she asked grumpily. Jane simply tossed his head back and laughed, unwilling to let her churlishness to ruin the anticipation fizzing through his veins.

"There's something I want to do when we wrap things up and get back to Sacramento."

Lisbon was nonplussed. "Okay...?" She waited for a few more seconds for him to elaborate. Releasing a long suffering sigh, she relented. "Are you planning on telling me what it is?"

The consultant shook his head, megawatt smile never wavering.

Lisbon just sighed again.

_______________________

  
"You guys up for it?"

Van Pelt looked surprisingly eager, almost ready to fly at a moment's notice. "I wondered if we were just gonna let Boss' birthday slide like that."

Rigsby and Cho took a little more convincing.

"I know you guys think it's a little childish-"

"A little?", asked Cho, eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, Jane, Boss hates doing any of this stuff, you'll drag us all down with you."

Cho nodded in agreement.

Jane had anticipated this, so he wasn't too bothered by their rejection. "It's not like it's going to be just birthday cake and balloons, it's going to be an adult party, booze included."

Before Cho could naysay it, Jane pointed out, "And I checked, you're off duty on those three days. Friday night would be perfect."

"What if we have plans?" This came from Rigsby, who truly couldn't understand why they were doing this.

"You want to do something more important than celebrate Lisbon's birthday?" 

"It's not the celebrating part of it I'm afraid of, it's the how we're celebrating."

"Look." Jane sauntered over to his couch and plopped himself down before repeating his plan.

"We tell Lisbon we're having drinks somewhere. You guys bring her to my motel room, I've booked three extra rooms for you guys, by the way."

"Why were you so sure we'd agree to it?", asked Cho.

Jane looked at them as if they were stupid, eyebrows raised, before continuing.

"I'll have decorated the party room with Grace's help, and we can placate Lisbon with the copious amounts of alcohol I've procured."

Rigsby perked up a bit at this. "How much is copious?"

"Two bottles of hard liquor a person, plus a couple crates of beers. I've got the makin's of cocktails at the ready too." Rigsby and Van Pelt looked impressed, already getting caught up in Jane's excitement.

Cho was the only one who was still unmoved.

"Why are we celebrating with a _slumber party?_ It's childish, it's kind of stupid and Lisbon's gonna be pissed. Not to mention, girly."

Jane smiled in exasperation. "You guys are way too buttoned up-" "We're not!", exclaimed Van Pelt.

"Yes, you are. And besides, when was the last time you guys had a sleepover? Remember being kids and waiting to grow up so you could do whatever you wanted to? Why not go back a little, enjoy what we would have back then?"

"I wasn't an alcoholic kid, Jane."

"You're nitpicking, Cho. Means you're about to fold."

Cho stared back at Jane, but Jane could tell he was still on the fence.

So he leaned in as if he were going to reveal a secret. "I'd never had a sleepover as a kid, so I kind of hoped I could use Lisbon's birthday as an excuse."

For some reason, _that_ was what settled it for everyone, Van Pelt's eyes softening to an almost maternal smile. It made Jane a little scared to see how willing the team was to accomodate to his personal wishes. As if they cared deeply.

And before Jane could choke the image before it took root, he saw their mangled bodies with bloody smiles on the walls next to them.

It should have made any person warm and happy, to know their friends cared about them. To Jane, it meant they were targets. More ways for Red John to hurt him.  
But he choked and killed the image before it further tainted what should have been good feeling.

The team didn't notice the split-second pause before Jane's grateful reply, and got down to planning the birthday.

Jane needed to get to Red John before he could take any more people he cared for from him.

Now, though, he still wanted to make another happy memory with Lisbon.

  
_____________________

  
"SURPRISE!"

Lisbon jumped out of her skin, her hand instinctively moving towards her gun. Jane stood behind her, stroking her arm and trying to get her to calm down.

When he looked at the room, he nearly wanted to hug Van Pelt. The redhead had outdone herself, decorating the motel room he'd rented with streamers, balloons and a banner that spelt out 'Happy Birthday Boss' in gold letters.

Lisbon whirled around, glaring daggers at Jane. "Jane, I said I didn't want to do anything tonight! You told me we were just gonna have a cup of tea!" 

"Here's your Long Island Iced Tea, boss."

Lisbon spun back to see Rigsby holding out a tall glass, wearing-

"Rigsby, why are you in pajamas?"

"Uhh..." 

That's when she noticed Van Pelt in green satin pajamas, standing at a table laden with cake, snacks and a punch bowl.  
Cho sat on one of the sofas, completely at ease in black cotton pajamas, his robe knotted loosely at the waist. He had on a party hat with a pompom at the tip.

Rigsby was still holding the drink, while Lisbon stared at his brown checkered pajamas.  
He looked at Jane for help, and the consultant took pity on him, walking around Lisbon to pick up a bag off the bed and handing it to her.

"We're having a slumber birthday party!"

Cho could almost see steam escaping Lisbon's ears, and said nothing, waiting to watch what promised to be a spectacular dressing down.

"Lisbon-"

"Boss, it was our idea."   
The blonde man tried to show every bit of his gratitude in the big smile he shot Van Pelt. "Jane mentioned never having had a sleepover, so we decided to club it with your birthday to have a party."

"Yeah, Van Pelt and Cho set it up so that we could surprise both of you!", exclaimed Rigsby, willingly throwing his partner under the bus.

Lisbon looked at Jane, who still stood with the bag extended towards her. She grabbed his wrist and dragged him off to his room, not a word escaping her on the way there.

It was only until he shut the door behind him that she gave him a dose of her anger of titanic proportions.

 _"Who told you you can do this?!"_  
"No one did, that's why it's a surprise, Lisb-"

"I don't care what you thought, did you care about what _I_ might think? Or what the others are thinking?"

Jane paused for a second. "Actually, since you dragged me so precipitously from the room, they're probably thinking you're 'thanking' me for a great surprise."

Lisbon froze, then turned beet red so fast, he was amazed her hair didn't puff up from the sudden heat.

  
"Don't be crude, Jane. No one's thinking that."

"Rigsby might."

"And Van Pelt will stop him. Speaking of, what did she mean by _Jane's never had a sleepover?_ You've told me about sleepover trips with your carny friends!"

Jane shrugged out of his jacket, setting it down with far more care than he'd ever treated it before. Lisbon could see the almighty former psychic stall for an answer that would least likely result in a foot up his ass.

"I guess", started Jane, "It made me so very sad that day at the stakeout, to think of a little Teresa not getting to have a birthday party or a sleepover with her friends."

"Jane, it was fine, I had plenty of-"

"I know, you always tell me you had fun, and you've probably made up for it in college. But the fun of sitting around, talking, eating, drinking and staying up all night with no one around to yell at us to sleep... I wanted to be able to give you that, just for tonight. I wanted to make you happy."

Lisbon looked straight into Jane's eyes then, unable to stop her heart thundering in her chest, the metal canister inside turning to dust against the force of what he'd just said.  
She maintained the eye contact, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the joke, for the scheme, for the selfishness that characterized these events he presided over.

But he never wavered. Big blue eyes stared back almost guilelessly, and she could see quite a bit of nervousness reflected back at her. 

He meant it. Jane meant to make her happy, to give her an experience she'd always thought she might have missed in her childhood.

It took everything in Lisbon not to reach out to the man and kiss him senseless. To press herself close to him, bring his face down and shower him in gratitude for the way he made her feel, special and noticed; safe.

And if Jane saw her pupils dilate to nearly twice its size, he never mentioned it. He was somewhat sure his own eyes had darkened, but Lisbon looked away by then. Cheeks flushed with embarrassment, pleasure, excitement, and green eyes fairly glowing. She bit her lip while thinking of a way to respond to Jane's explanation, and in the sad white light of the motel room, she should not have looked so beautiful, but she did. Even if it hurt him, Jane drank in every single detail he could see, even the less-than-luxurious surroundings, to keep framed in that small, locked away room. So that if he ever went back in, it would be the first thing he would see.

"Thank you, Jane." Lisbon was looking straight at him, the previous hectic colour now under control. Her eyes were incredibly soft in gratitude, understanding that he meant nothing but her happiness this time.

Jane smiled back at her, a real smile, before motioning to the bag in her hands. She looked into it, scrunch her nose and pulled out light pink pajamas, edged in frilly lace.

Jane himself had taken out a dark blue pair of pajamas. She wondered if they could exchange.

"Let's get ready, your party awaits!"

__________________________

  
Lisbon had to admit, it was one of the best birthdays she'd ever had.

She was standing out in the balcony, hoping the salty breeze would clear her head just a little.

Her team had finally crashed at around 3, after nine straight hours of drunken carousing

As soon as she'd walked back into the party room, Van Pelt let out a muffled gasp when she saw her frilly pink nightdress.  
Lisbon barely shot her a grumpy look before Cho stood up from his seat, handing over his black robe. 

"I knew Jane would've picked something like this", he said.

Jane dragged her to the table at the back of the room, where he lit up a single candle in the shape of a tiara, gesturing for her to blow it out after they sang for her.

She had memories of cutting small cakes and her brothers mashing them in her face, but apparently, the fear of Lisbon was enough to keep the hijinks at bay.  
She fed each of her team cake, and accepted a bite in return, before turning to Jane. She couldn't believe how much she was enjoying the childish spectacle, and tried to convey her gratitude as best as she could, nonverbally.  
Jane, on his part, had his breath taken away when he saw Lisbon in her frilly pink shirt, eyes glowing in the light of the candle, roses in her cheeks from the excitement that she tried so hard to contain for the sake of her team.

But he could see the little girl inside, clapping and laughing in joy as she got the birthday she should've had all along. 

He was going to have to make a new room in his memory palace after tonight, he just knew it.

He bent to retrieve something, and then placed it delicately on her head before she knew what was happening.

"There. A pretty little princess."  
It was a plastic tiara.

He bowed to Lisbon, accepting all the teasing laughter from everyone before they got down to the real partying.

They'd watched a crappy horror movie, which still managed to make Van Pelt uneasy (Rigsby gave Jane a thumbs up when she snuggled into him.)

Lisbon and Cho trashed the whole movie, boo-ing the protagonist's stupid choices and throwing popcorn at the screen when she survived despite making a wrong turn at every road.  
Cho then gave them a surprisingly well thought out and detailed plan for such an event, though no one was sure if it was the booze talking.

Jane sat in the back, his green cocktail in hand, watching Lisbon sit cross legged on the thick blanket in front of the TV with Cho, looking for all the world like a ten year old getting to stay up late and watch 'adult' movies.

Next was karaoke, with everyone picking their classic of choice to croon to, but no one _ever_ expected Cho to actually bust out "Can't Touch This", Hammer Time and everything.  
Van Pelt picked an Elton John, Rigsby AC/DC.  
Lisbon started Bon Jovi, which everyone but Jane sang along to and Jane, ever the lover of true classics, serenaded the room to Sinatra.

Then they'd played spin the bottle, with Rigsby giving a blushing Van Pelt a peck on the cheek, before having to give a stone-faced Cho one as well.

Van Pelt pecked Lisbon on the cheek, with a sisterly hug and a quiet 'Happy Birthday'. Lisbon felt a great wave of affection for the younger woman crash over her.

Jane also had to kiss Lisbon, which she accepted with a surprising amount of grace, considering that she had elephants trampling inside her.  
But she could feel her skin being branded from where his lips touched her.

It was very chaste, and nothing that he didn't do with other women when he tried to wheedle his way out of their ire. But Jane's eyes glowed with a real intensity she had never seen for anyone but Red John, just before he made contact.

There was a loud cheer from the other three, startling them into breaking apart. They smiled with their eyes, Jane's expression back to its gentle warmth.

Jane had ordered in from a restaurant that didn't do takeout, getting them sample dishes of risotto, pasta, flatbreads and _steak_.

(That last one elicited a tear from Rigsby.)

So they all gathered around the dishes in a communal style, on the floor with cutlery and napkins strewn about, laughing and eating and cracking jokes.

Jane had had been to so many outdoor fetes in his life, but none had the absolute warmth he felt seeing the team, _his_ team, let loose and forget about the daily horrors of their job.

Lisbon sat between Jane and Van Pelt, waving her beer bottle around as she tried to argue with Cho and Rigsby about the authority she was granted to take the last cup of coffee of the day for herself.  
Her eyes were droopy, the various cocktails and beers finally making their presence known, and the others were none better.

Van Pelt was weaving in and out of consciousness, the rich food lulling her into a mild coma. Rigsby was almost the same, but he was still more preoccupied with the protecting the rights of junior agents and their coffees. His eyes kept flicking to Van Pelt's blissful smile from time to time, though.

Cho was... Cho. The man could have drunk battery acid and most people around him wouldn't have known. Jane could see his solid stance flagging, though, and a part of him wanted to watch the ship crash. 

Arguments done, everyone talking amongst themselves, Lisbon got up and clambered onto the balcony.

About ten minutes later, she felt a little more sober and just as she was going to turn in, Jane climbed out into the small space with her.

"So how was your birthday slumber party?" Jane looked at Lisbon, hoping the darkness hid the intensity of his expression. Alcohol was a taboo if you had a con on, and Jane was too liquored up to be able to appropriately school himself. Biofeedback techniques only went so far when strong alcohol was aided with strong feelings.

But he held himself still, drinking in the sight of a tipsy Lisbon so happy she was incandescent with it.

He'd been with her for so long, he'd seen so many sides of her... But he'd never seen her so joyous.  
Relieved, chirpy, content, yes. But just, plain happy.

And he had done it for _her_. 

Lisbon stared back at Jane, unable to say the words that seemed to always whisper in the back of her mind; the canister back was back in action, but a little worse for wear. 

But she had had the time of her life, and he was responsible for it. He had done it, all for her.

Eyes shining, she almost forgave the years of paperwork he cost her. 

But she simply opened her arms out, and he just as simply walked into them, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

They held each other in silence, almost marking each other with their scent. The words couldn't be said, the emotions couldn't face the light of day should it catch the eye of a monster.

For now, though, under the cover of darkness, two lonely people held the person they loved best, the feeling moving through their soul, filling up the cracks and gaps left by tragedy and rough lives.

Jane savoured the spice in her hair, the slight body clinging to his, and kissed her temple gently, hoping his every emotion passed from his lips to her mind, her heart.

"Happy Birthday, Princess."


	5. Aloe Relief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please know I do NOT proofread anything, these are just... brainfarts.
> 
> Everytime you open this fic, please remember the tag 'Not Beta Read We Die Like Vega'
> 
> Because she did. Like a boss.

Grace hobbled to her desk, cursing under breath. The flats she'd changed into after breaking off the heel of the stilettos she'd worn undercover did not help for the blisters that had already formed during the day, and she kicked them off with a sigh.

Damn men and their stupid fetishes.

Being a tall girl, she rarely wore heels beyond an inch. Even the CBI black-tie fundraisers had her wearing shoes with two inches at the most since there'd be a chance that she'd have to look down at a bigwig while selling the _we-work-for-justice-but-still-have-pizza-boxes-for-computers_ spiel. The bigger the wig, the more fragile the ego.

She never had a problem with Wayne though, her brain supplied. She'd always had to look _up_ at him; he made her feel _dainty_ , as if she were a petite doll, just like Lisbon.  
It was one of the things she'd loved about him.

Still loves, if the flutters in her stomach were anything to go by when Rigsby first saw her in the black dress and heels. 

His eyes had darkened a fraction, and to anyone else it would've looked like the merest show of approval at the final product. But Grace knew. She always knew, even years after the last time they made love, the last time his eyes had truly shown her what she did to him.

The break up had been horrible; it had taken several months to get over it, even while they both saw other people. The fact that they still worked on the same team exacerbated the sharp pain of loss, despite being the reason they weren't together.

But even when she dated, and later got engaged to Craig, she never got over _him_.

Over Wayne Rigsby.

"Your feet okay, Van Pelt?"

Grace swiveled in her chair to look at Cho, who was in turn, pointedly staring at her cracked, red feet.

"Oh", she looked down at her bruised feet and waved it off, "It's fine. Just looks worse than it feels."

Cho nodded at the explanation and walked to his desk. It was late in the evening and they'd both returned to the office to get a head start on the paperwork.  
Rigsby decided to call it in early and take Ben home from his daycare.

Jane and Lisbon weren't in either.

She knew they weren't together, but the three junior agents of the team (and a few others) had a pool going on when they would. If they didn't get their heads straight soon, she was losing big. After all, who could look at the two of them and not see what was apparently obvious to the rest of the world but them?

Jane was a brilliant man, and Lisbon was one of the sharpest people Grace had ever known, so there's no way they didn't know.

Love had been known to make people stupid, but _that_ stupid? They'd have custard for brains then.

Jane still wore his wedding ring, but by now, they all knew he wore it more a symbol of his revenge than a token of his unending love for a dead woman.

Not that the ring ever made a difference to the women he turned the full force of his charm on. Grace had had a hard time focusing the first few times Jane shot a winsome smile at her when they first met.

Years later, though, like Lisbon, she only felt tredipation whenever he grinned at her.

"Where did Boss and Jane go?", she asked.

Cho looked up from his file and shrugged. "Jane was saying something about stars and ice-cream and dragged Lisbon about an hour ago."

Grace smiled, then sighed. Sounded almost romantic.

"What about you?"

She'd just booted up her PC, and was typing in her password. "What about me?"

"You and Rigsby don't have a date?"

Her brain short-circuited for a second.

"What?"

Cho just gave her an exasperated glance. "After all the tripe that came out on a public talk show, you're just gonna let it go?"

Grace frowned. "Let _what_ go? It was undercover work. We're not together, Cho."

Again, he just shook his head.

She huffed and gave it up, absently pulling her feet up and rubbing them, dreading the soreness that was sure to set in tomorrow.

"Come here."

Cho was standing by Jane's sofa, beckoning her to it. She obeyed, now _completely_ confused, and sat on the worn brown leather.

She watched as Cho dragged a chair from his desk, sat right in front of her and picked her foot up by the ankle.

Grace freaked out. "Hey, _he-Cho_ _it's_ _fi_ \- Don't worry about it", she stammered, trying unsuccessfully to tug her foot out his hold.

Cho gave her a stern look, waited for her to subside before gently dotting her foot in a clear gel. The cracked, red blisters stopped burning nearly instantly, and she sighed in relief.

"You still love him, and he still loves you", he muttered, still working on her foot. "We no longer have anti-fraternization rules. What are you waiting for?"

She stared at him as he rubbed it into her skin, quickly, efficiently, and within a minute, the other foot was taken care of too.

Pulling her feet off Cho's lap, she smiled gratefully. "What did you use?"

The man closed the tube he'd used before turning it over for Grace's inspection.

"Aloe vera? Why do you have this?", she asked curiously. Cho was the furthest person someone would think of when contemplating skin care.

"Helps for everything. Blisters, burns, bad skin."

She giggled at the thought of Cho carefully applying the gel each morning as a skin care routine.

He turned around and settled himself on the edge of his desk.

"Neither of you are the same people you were four years ago. You're more sure of yourself, of your place in this team and the world. You shouldn't have the same doubts you had back then."

Grace gazed at Cho, who silently watched her in turn as she tried to figure out the things that had been plaguing her since she heard the words that Rigsby said, deviating completely from the original script Jane had written for them. She could feel the sincerity, and while Rigsby was as dense as he looked, she knew he could never lie.

She looked in his eyes, when they were still in the broadcasting room with the host, and she could see the same, exact love shining through eyes that had more lines around them. They had changed through the years, but the spark between them had never done so.

Jane once told her that Rigsby had threatened all her exes to be careful they didn't hurt her.

She wondered what Rigsby saw in her eyes.

Apparently, her face must have betrayed her decision because, without a word, Cho got off the desk and sat on the other side, clearly getting back to work.

She got up, anticipation fizzing in her veins, and turned to her friend.

"Have a great night, Van Pelt."

She smiled wide, more hopeful for the future in that moment than she'd been in a very long time.

"Cho?"

He raised his head.

"Thank you."

The agent watched her walk off, the slight limp almost completely gone, and smiled, shaking his head.

Rigsby owed him big; not as much as Lisbon and Jane did, though.

He might not be a mentalist, but he could read his best friend to a tidy profit. Now, to win the Jane-Lisbon pool...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Cho would be a sweetie if there's absolutely no one around to see it.  
> I really do.
> 
> I liked Grace, she was sweet even though Rigspelt got so much screentime.   
> (Yes, it's been years but I'm still salty as hell about being cheated out of more Jisbon)
> 
> Your kudos and comments genuinely make me so very happy, I'm so grateful there are such good people on AO3! Thank you all!  
> Lots of love,   
> Ree♡


	6. Bitter Green Leaves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lisbon finds Jane on belladonna.
> 
> Set a bit after the events of S5E02, "Devil's Cherry"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again. So much self-indulgent. 
> 
> I think it's a pattern. Self-indulgent means HOLY POOPY SO GODDAMN LONG.
> 
> Refrain:  
> 'Not beta read, we die like men'

"Night, Rigby. Have a good one." 

Rigsby waved to Lisbon, already on the phone with Sarah. Lisbon could hear him list out snacks and recipes; Sarah's pregnancy cravings made her a contender with Rigsby for putting away as much food as humanly possible.

She looked around the empty bullpen. It was dark out and everyone had eagerly headed home for the weekend, which was off-call. Van Pelt needed some time off anyway, after the O'Laughlin fiasco, and Cho probably wanted to read.

The senior agent sighed contentedly. Paperwork was a bitch to unload at the worst of times, but Jane had recently been quite restrained at crime scenes, so she knew she could just call it a day after an hour more.

Not that she had any plans. Maybe Jane wanted to grab dinner later?

She bounded up the stairs to the consultant's attic, ready to wake him up from one of his many catnaps. Over the last couple of weeks, though, she'd noticed him being more withdrawn, less manic.   
He seemed content. This last case had a smart perp, which would usually entail Jane playing around with him before drawing out his confession. But nothing. Jane walked in, smiled, let Cho handle then interrogation with full authority, pointed out a few salient mistakes, and left the room after he was cuffed.

Which made Lisbon incredulous because when had Jane ever missed a chance to enjoy himself in a game of wits? 

Something was up. Lisbon didn't begrudge Jane any peace of mind he could have, in fact, she was glad... But no one could shed years of torturing themselves mentally within weeks. It had to be a ruse for a deeper game.

Red John's man was still in the CBI, and up to two weeks ago, Jane had been near crazed in his eagerness to flush him out.  
She'd almost had an apoplectic attack when he confessed to breaking into LaRoche's house. She had agree to LaRoche's punishment so that she could save Jane. Again.

Six months of anger management classes had only fueled hers to massive proportions.

Lisbon stood outside the rusted door, ready to knock. That was when she heard Jane speaking softly.

 _Happily_.

For a painful split second, she wondered if Jane had gone and got a girlfriend, but shook it off. Jane would never let himself be happy unless he won the game against Red John.

She knocked, two sharp raps on the thick door. Scuffles could be heard inside, she could hear paper being hastily scrunched, Jane's tea cup clattering in its saucer.

She waited for ten more seconds before the door slid open, revealing Jane in his rumpled three-piece suit. His eyes were droopier than usual and rimmed in red.

But what got Lisbon's heart racing was that he was weaving where he stood. Very lightly enough that someone might have thought he was just moving to some music.   
She knew him better than that.

Eyes wide and nervous, she asked, "Jane, what's going on?"

"Lisbon", he drawled, "what a surprise. I thought you'd be heading home by now."

"I was gonna ask if you wanted to go out for dinner and maybe catch a movie."

Jane smiled. "Not today, Lisbon, but thank you for asking."

"Jane."

"Lisbon."

She rolled her eyes. "What's going on? Who were you talking to?"

The consultant just smiled again. "Talking to myself, thinking things out..."

"Jane, you were talking to _s_ _omeone_. I heard it."

She stepped closer, trying to look at his eyes. Jane immediately stepped back, maintaining distance.

When had Jane ever bothered with personal space? The man didn't know the meaning of it if he wanted to figure someone out, or herself. He kept touching her freely, and while it used to bother her quite a bit, she'd gotten used to it. To him. 

So why did he insist on maintaining space between them?

"Jane, look at me", she ordered. 

"No." Like a child, he refused to remove his eyes from the floor.

Now something like panic slithered into her chest. 

He pushed off the door, and she noted that he'd kept himself propped up on it. 

He walked over to his bed and flopped onto it, covering his eyes with an arm.

That's it. 

She stomped over to him and tried to pull his arm off. No dice. For a man who never, ever engaged in any form of physical pursuit, he was surprisingly strong, and she couldn't get it to budge.

So she dropped it, and looked around his room. She noticed his teacup on its side, and a teapot badly hidden behind his Red John files.

She walked over to the desk, and fished out the teapot. She could already smell something different to the teas he usually brewed in it, more floral and sweet.

She'd smelled this before. It kept pulling at her brain, and for the life of her, she couldn't place it.

Lisbon didn't hear Jane sneak up behind her and flinched when he neatly took the teapot out of her hands.

"Don't bother. I finished the bag anyway."

She could hear him breathe deliberately, like he had to work to slow down his heart.

He refused to look at her, still, puttering around on unsteady feet, keeping the teapot on the table and straightening his cup in its saucer.

It hit her. She'd smelled this herb on that case a few weeks ago when Jane had accidentally dosed himself with-

"You're drinking belladonna." She rounded on him with accusing eyes.

Jane shrugged languidly, walking to his bed and laying back down more sedately, arm back on his eyes.

Lisbon just stood there.

"Jane, why?"

"Why what?"

"Why the hell are you drinking this again?!"

No answer.

So she dragged his chair over to the bed, and dropped herself into it. She couldn't believe that Jane, who abhorred anything messing with his brain, was willingly dosing himself with the herb. He'd had a bad experience the first time round.

And then she remembered the whole case. She remembered Jane talking to his dead daughter, a teenager that she would've been had she lived.

The whole case, Jane had been out of it, but happy in a way she had never seen him. She saw a smile she'd never had the privilege to see before, which he had probably bestowed on his Charlotte thousands of times before she was taken away.

Oh, God, had Jane been drinking this stuff in hopes of meeting her again?   
It was poisonous in large quantities, she remembered the paramedic mentioning.

She concealed her heartbreak, talking to him in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Have you been talking to your daughter?"

Jane smiled automatically, a beautiful, open, _happy_ grin at the mention of his little girl.

It took everything in Lisbon not to grab him and shake him, pull him down to earth harshly and remind him that she wasn't real. 

Sometimes, she hated being Jane's keeper. She hated having to rein in his joy, albeit fake.   
She hated being responsible for sapping the smile off his face.

"Jane, you know she isn't real."

The smile froze. "I know."

"You know that she's a figment of your imagination."

"I know."

"You know that belladonna is poisonous in large doses."

"I don't care anymore."

Lisbon's heart stopped for a second. Then went into overdrive.

"You don't mean that. You still have Red John to catch."

The arm came off finally. And Lisbon came face-to-face with the wreckage she had caused when she pulled him back down.  
For a few, heartrending seconds, he looked devastated.  
As if he had opened the door to find his wife and child murdered for the first time all over again.

He looked _shattered_.

Lisbon truly hated being the only one Jane trusted.

"Why can't I take the happiness I was given?", he asked woodenly, his face closing up. 

"You weren't given this happiness, Jane, it's false."

"Why can't I give up and just be happy?" His eyes slid shut, and Lisbon heart broke all over again to see a tear slide out, disappear into his temple.

Ever since he'd carelessly said those three stupid words, her attraction to him had shifted over to emotions. It had been a couple of years, but she knew that he had meant them, but didn't have the courage to own up to it.   
And as long as Red John was still around, Jane would never have room in his heart for another. She knew he kept himself away from her, even if he was bad at it, for her own safety.   
Red John had made it a point to take everything Jane loved from him. He'd already asked for Lisbon's head, and only Jane's brilliance had kept it attached to her body.

She tried valiantly not to give rise to the feelings in her, but moments like this, when Jane was suffering so badly he wished to die, made them infinitely stronger. She _knew_ , from the moment she'd met him, that he was trouble. 

He lied, obfuscated and caused havoc at will, moving things around to suit him, even Lisbon. A normal person would have given him up weeks into the partnership, not fallen in love with him.

But she did, and now she was stuck with the struggle not to take him into her arms and soothe his pain away with kisses.  
She couldn't, so she gave him another solace. Reason.

"This happiness is not real, Jane.", she whispered. She placed her hand on his, trying to ground him in reality with herself.  
"This Charlotte isn't real. Your daughter's with your wife somewhere you can't go yet, and till then, you'll have to stay here, with us."

_With me._

Jane finally opened his eyes and Lisbon could see his pupils still dilated, shiny with tears.

She sighed and faced his hand palm up, then twined her fingers around his. She could feel the cold metal of his wedding band sharply contrast with the heat of his hand. 

A primal part of her enjoyed how little her pale fingers looked in his longer ones.  
Gave her the illusion of protection.

The rational side of her knew, though, that _she_ was the one doing the protecting.  
She was protecting him from himself.

"Jane", she continued. "There are people here who want you, need you here. Your work isn't done yet, and if I let you go chasing a false happiness, you know it's going to bite you in the ass. You'll wake up one day and realise that you abandoned what you fought so hard to stay alive for."

"I'm so tired, Lisbon", he whispered brokenly.

She looked into his eyes, understanding. People had gone through less than what he had, and found it too difficult. It was human nature to fight to live, but they also needed a reason to. Jane had lost everything, but managed to dig himself out.  
He _found_ himself a reason to put one foot in front of the other, live day to day till it added up to years later, alive with a steady job and people who cared deeply about him, and a goal to run towards.

Lisbon might not approve of the goal, but she also wasn't about to let all that work go to waste.

"You've been here for so long, worked nearly incessantly to get this far. Why abandon us when we're so close?"

Jane barked out a short, irritated laugh. "Please, Lisbon", he scoffed. "I cause you more trouble than I'm worth, I've put your career at risk too often, I've lied to you. You're too loyal to recognise that you should've abandoned me the day we met."

Now _Lisbon_ was pissed.

She pinched his arm with her other hand, smirking when he yelped.

"Look at me, Jane." She waited till he did. "Yes, you lie to me, cause me trouble, and give me so much paperwork to do I feel less like a detective and more like a file clerk."   
Shaking her head, she continued. "You're a pain in the ass, but you're also damn good at what you do. We don't just need your skills, though, we need _you_."

"Please don't forget that you have a team that's seen you fight every single day, and respects you for it. Rigsby worships your sleight of hand tricks, Van Pelt goes out of her way to buy your favourite tea on her own time, and Cho doesn't punch you in the face even though you annoy him all the time. They care."

Jane shifted his head to look clearly at her. "What about you? Do you care?"

Lisbon wondered if it was the belladonna talking. But today, she'd give him a straight answer.

"You know I do. I wouldn't have done so much for any other person."

Jane waved his hand. "Yes, you would, you're an honest, caring woma- _Ow_!"

Pinching him had shut him up long enough for her to get an edge in. "Let me finish! Yes, I might care for people, but I do not give them free rein to wreak havoc in my life. If you use what I say next to your advantage, I'll stab you and get away with it, everyone will understand. You make my days interesting. You drive me crazy, you refuse to listen to me, and you don't do your own damn paperwork. But having you around makes a job that's pretty depressing and scary a little more fun. I know my life would've been monotonous without you.  
I'll still fight you about Red John if it means you won't have to spend your hard earned lifetime in prison. You might not believe in it, so let me believe for you. You will get Red John, and you will live a fulfilled life till you get to see your wife and child again. You can tell Charlotte, the real Charlotte, everything when you meet her again. It's not gonna be for a long time, so you'll have plenty of stories to tell her. I believe in that. In you."

She finished her speech; Jane's eyes were no longer as sad anymore. She felt him squeeze her hand in return, unable to tell her what he felt.

But she understood.

"Now", she said briskly. "You think you can pull yourself together enough to pass off as a sober man, or you want me to order takeout?"

Jane shot a real smile at Lisbon.

They decided on takeout. Jane freshened himself up while Lisbon ordered, and they stood on the terrace, watching stray cars hurry on their way home. 

She looked at Jane, his eyes were still slightly sad, more peaceful. Nothing like the content that the belladonna manufactured, but it was real.   
The weak moonlight glinted off his blonde hair, turning it silver. 

She turned back to the horizon. "I'm sorry, Jane."

He cocked his head at her. "Why?", he asked curiously.

"Sometimes I think I should have let you go, when you'd lost your memory. I shouldn't have reminded you. And now, too."

Jane tipped his head to the sky, feeling the briny wind around him. Lisbon wondered what he was thinking, too afraid that she had accidentally opened up a box of resentment he might have harbored at her.

After a few seconds, very quietly, she heard him speak.   
"There were a few moments, when I was especially weak, I thought you were unspeakably cruel to remind me of everything I've lost. I was, well, not happy, but I didn't remember the depths of despair then. For a few seconds, I wanted to die right where I stood, so that you would know a bit of the pain I felt."

Lisbon's heart, which had been pounding, turned cold. _He hates me. He hates me. He hates me._

Maybe it showed on her face; Jane quickly stopped her thoughts.

"I don't hate you, I didn't, even then. It hurt. It felt like betrayal for a few seconds."

This was not making Lisbon feel _any_ better.

"But", Jane continued, "It was _real._ You only showed me the truth. And you were right. My brain was trying to shield me from experiencing the pain all over again, but one day or the other, I would've had to come to terms with it, and by then, any chance of catching Red John would've vanished. I would've lost all of you, too. I would have lost everything, once again. But you didn't let me. You pulled me back to reality, and it hurt, but you were there for me. You all were. Just like you're doing it now."

The cars were blurring now, obscured by the tears swimming in her eyes. She blinked hard to get rid of them.

She felt Jane's hand search hers out, grasp it tightly.

"You save me over and over. Nothing I can do will ever repay it."

She refused to look at him while her eyes were still wet, but she gulped to clear the lump in her throat before replying.

"You can start by doing the paperwork."

He finally laughed, loud and free. The sound scared off a few dozing pigeons nearby, but it warmed Lisbon up from the inside out.

They stood there by the terrace, the somber atmosphere finally giving way to real warmth. If they held hands till the food reached, and even after, well, no one had to know.

The weight of their bond was shared between their palms, solid, warm and _real_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That scene when Jane sits with a cup of belladonna tea, all alone in his room, waiting to see his baby girl again was probably one of the saddest scenes in the show.  
> The soundtrack was also incredible.
> 
> Again, thank you SO MUCH for your comments! They genuinely spur me on! So many hugs!  
> Ree ♡


	7. Brown Boxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lisbon and Van Pelt end up finding Jane dumping a large bag of cash into a donation box.
> 
> Loosely based on the end of S1E06, "Red-Handed".

Bright sunlight tried to blind her through her eyelids. She cursed every single person who made her take the room facing east; she knew that the rest of the team would only rise when they were fully rested, unlike her, forced awake by the new dawn.

She forgot that she'd just grabbed a set of keys from Van Pelt, not bothering about her room because they had a murderer to catch.   
That was done in record time, thanks to Jane's intricate knowledge of casinos, and this was her reward. A blaring sun expecting any mortals who saw it to rise with it. 

Lisbon gave up trying to sleep. Even turning over didn't do the trick. All the post-case shots and beers had left her lethargic, but unable to sleep, and once she completed a mental inventory, she was just grateful she wasn't woken up with a blaring headache instead. 

So she stretched under the covers like a feline, lithe body cracking in protest after a long sleep. 

Figuring that she might as well get in some coffee (though, looking around the sparsely decorated room, she had low hopes for quality), she eased out of bed and padded to the bathroom.

Thirty minutes later, feeling more refreshed and less like she was going to tear someone's head off, she stood by the window, watching the sun rise and smelling the dry dawn air. Reno winds were less salty, more drying, she noticed before deciding to slather on some extra lotion.

The evening before, they'd cuffed the degenerate son-in-law with plenty of time to spare, so Jane decided the team could let loose and took them all out with his earnings from the card tables, which Lisbon was dismayed, but not surprised, to realise it was a large amount of money. Massive, really. He'd already spent a goodly sum of it buying jewellery for the women and the most gaudy watches Lisbon had ever seen for the men. 

Van Pelt was certainly thrilled with the emerald set of earrings and a necklace Jane gifted her. Lisbon herself had to harden her heart to return the rubies to Jane, though she'd looked fantastic in them. She felt a little bad that Van Pelt gave hers up too, but knew how awkward it was to accept such a costly gift from a colleague, even if it _was_ Jane.

However, the rest of the evening was pretty fun. They played poker against Jane, which was surprisingly insightful. Lisbon felt like she learned tells from every person on the table, though, with Jane, there was a ninety-five percent chance that it was fake. Then the boys tried to practice card tricks while the consultant coached them, helpfully telling them how to flip their hands and time the showings. The food was great, and as the night progressed, professionalism gave way to the booze, and Lisbon and Van Pelt quietly spoke about good-looking men in the CBI. Lisbon had the vague feeling Jane was listening in, and made a point of telling Van Pelt how unattractive he was, watching his face fall and then turn insulted. Then the girls decided to call it a night and walked back to the motel, sufficiently protected being in law enforcement and all that. The buzz of alcohol wore off, followed by bone-crushing weariness and Lisbon was barely awake enough to make it to her room and undress before she crashed onto the bed. 

  
Until the damn sun decided she'd rested long enough.

Lisbon holstered her gun and her mobile clip onto her belt, fluffed up her curls and walked out in search of caffeine.

When she got to the ground floor, though, there was Van Pelt, standing stock still at the bottom of the stairs. Lisbon was surprised. Van Pelt, for all her productivity at work, was a layabout. The end of a time-restrictive case meant she was usually the last one down, eschewing breakfast for an extra hour of sleep.

Even so, why was she standing there like that?

So Lisbon walked over to the redhead, about to ask her what was up, when she followed her line of sight to see Jane standing by a Goodwill donation box. His suit was slightly rumpled and even from a distance, they could see his hair completely tousled. 

"Van Pelt, what's going on?"

The junior agent looked at Lisbon, eyes wide. "I don't know, boss. I walked down and saw him standing there looking super dodgy."

Lisbon's brain went into overdrive at _too-freaking-early-in-the-morning-for-this-crap_ , trying to figure out what Jane might have gotten himself into last night.

"Think he went back to the casinos and played against the wrong person?", asked Van Pelt.

Lisbon shrugged. "It's possible, he doesn't look like he slept at all."

But before she could march over to him and demand what he'd done, she saw Jane pick up the big bag of cash he brought back from the casino. Their eyes went wide when they saw him peer once to the left, once to the right, ascertain he was alone and then drop the entire bag into the donation box.

The women looked at each other in shock. 

_That was a lot of money._

Enough to buy a house or a car. Enough to not have to work for atleast a year. 

Then it hit Lisbon. It was enough to help someone in unfortunate circumstances start a whole new life.  
Selfish, narcissistic, self-serving Jane had given away all his winnings to help someone else.   
And apparently, he didn't even want anyone to know he did it.

For a second, she felt her heart beat quicker. Jane was always gentle, even kind to people in pain, but that was a drop in the ocean if Jane regularly went around giving casino winnings away to those who needed it.

"Boss, I can't believe he's hiding the fact that he did it."

She couldn't disagree with the redhead, she would've expected him to make a show of it, wanting their praise. Her praise.

Was it possible Jane did such good deeds to redeem himself of the loss of his family? Or that he did it on a whim, just because he could?

That was more like Jane.

Didn't make it any less considerate.

Lisbon knew that if she'd had even a fraction of that money in her childhood, raising her brothers would've been less of a burden.  
She hoped that whoever got that gift would be able to use it to have a fresh start in life.

Turning to Van Pelt, she said, "Let's go get some coffee."

The junior agent's eyes went wide again. "But I thought we were gonna talk to Jane."

She shrugged. "If he wanted us to know, he would've done it in front of us. Let him be."

So Lisbon steered the taller woman to the dining room, but not before watching Jane stretch on his toes and raise his face to the still-rising sun.

They were halfway through burnt toast and soggy bacon before Jane showed up to the table, beaming entirely too widely. And for once, Lisbon let him needle them both about good-looking men and his own looks without slapping him upside the head. Van Pelt held her tongue as well, and simply smiled sweetly.

Jane couldn't get a rise out of the girls, and soon, the boys showed up, Rigsby demolishing everything in sight, clearly hungover.

He couldn't for the life of him, understand why both women kept smiling at him so sincerely, and was surprised out of his mind when Van Pelt hugged him before leaving in her car.

Even on the way back, Jane tried to dissect Lisbon's good mood.   
The only answer he got, after being dropped off at the CBI building, was a soft, heartfelt, "Thanks, Jane."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone's kinda realised these one shots are not linear on the timeline. I simply remember scenes from the show and write from there.
> 
> I'm not entirely sure how I ended up writing so many when intended to do just one. But I DO know that every comment you guys drop makes me want to try for more.
> 
> It's been a bad year for everyone around, but y'all made this venture so very worthwhile. I hope all of you are safe.
> 
> Thank you, so much, for reading these brainfarts.  
> Ree♡


	8. Evergreen (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This rambling ruin of a chapter is dedicated to stanislav, murdockshmurdock and LouiseKurylo for all your lovely words.

"I wish I could make it down for Christmas, but you know how it gets around holidays..." Lisbon adjusted her phone between her shoulder and ear, typing away at her computer.  
"Uh huh..." She listened to her sister-in-law elaborate her plans for the family get-together she was throwing for Christmas Eve. It looked like even Tommy was taking a break and taking her niece, Annie to visit her uncles.

"Murderers don't seem to have the heart to give us a break, you know." She rolled her eyes as Karen went on about how she should pass off the work to her juniors and just _take_ the break.  
Suddenly, the other line went muffled before her brother came on.

"Reese, come on, you can fly down for the day and go back on Christmas evening. Jimmy, Tommy and Annie are coming down for dinner."

Lisbon sighed. It was always a messy hurdle passing over holiday family gatherings. She loved her family, she truly did, but it was always a mess that somehow left her feeling more stressed, upset and unsatisfied than before the trip.  
They just didn't understand that there was always a case to work on, and she mentioned as much.

"Reese" her brother sighed, already predicting the outcome of the call.  
"You aren't the only one in the world with an important job. Family's important too."

Feathers ruffled, she sharply replied, "Yeah, and there are too many people out there dealing with the loss of it for me to take time off to enjoy myself. How can I claim family's important if I can't protect someone else's family?"

Stan started on a tangent about delegation, when Jane walked into her office, apparently about to ask something.

Raising a finger to him, she kept herself on the line, listening to her brother try to convince her to join in one more last ditch effort of the year.

Jane nodded, ambled over to her sofa and dropped himself onto it.

"Stan, I know how to delegate."

Jane snorted when he heard that. 

Eyes narrowed at the blonde man in her couch, she continued. "Look, as much as I'd like to make it day after, I simply can't. If I give the case to someone else, I won't be sure they'll treat it with the same respect and urgency I would have."

Jane rested his head on the soft suede, listening to Lisbon try to wrangle her way out of a family do.  
He agreed with the fact that she worked each case with an appropriate sense of responsibility, but he also knew that his Lisbon was just a workaholic who couldn't stand to take a holiday. Especially with her family, well-meaning and loving though they might be.

"Uh huh... Yeah... Mmm, I know, they're growing up so fast, I could barely recognise Joey... Sure, Stan. I'll call you guys. Take lots of pictures. Sure... I miss you guys too. Love you, Stan. Bye."

He turned in his spot to see Lisbon fling the phone onto her desk and groan before slowly working out the tightness in her slender neck. 

Jane was always grateful for his eagle eyes; they helped him see things no one else saw. But he was especially grateful that he could sit at a distance and still see her graceful throat work, shaking her curls off, so that the pale expanse of her collarbones was free for him to see. What he wouldn't give to be able to touch it, put his lips on the pulse at the base of her throat and coax out the throaty moans he knew she would try to keep between her teeth.

Things had gotten out of hand when he said those three words before 'shooting' her a few months ago. But seeing Lisbon for the first time in six months, and the fear that Red John would get to her had loosened his tongue. It was only when he got her into the safehouse that he realised what a mistake he'd made.

And of course, Lisbon would ask him directly. He'd expected nothing less of his brave little partner. He'd brushed off those explosive words with nothing more than a confused quirk of his eyebrows and a "I can't remember".

He _knew_ she knew that he did. Remember, that is. But, brave as his little partner was, he'd counted on her emotional skittishness to go along with it.

_"Good luck, Teresa. Love you."_

Two words out of five had caused a gulf between them that Jane had tried very hard to bridge with more confidences in his Red John schemes, and a few paltry origami animals, which he knew she saved and kept somewhere.

He knew she deserved better. Someone more honest, less inclined to work like the Lone Ranger and abandon her when she needed him the most. She thought he didn't trust her; what she didn't know was the depth of his trust, his feelings for her. And it had to be kept that way.

He'd shoved those feelings down into an abandoned room in his memory palace, somewhere he wouldn't be tempted to extricate them, somewhere even Red John wouldn't be able to reach.

He was sure she thought he was still pining away for his dead wife. And yes, he _did_ miss Angela, but not with the same ungodly despair he first did when she was snatched away. Over time, he started to accept the fact that she was gone with Charlotte, and slowly, he'd started returning to the land of living. He started craving the emotional security of a relationship, the physical closeness of a woman's touch, the feeling of absolute bliss with the right one.

While Jane seemed flaky in a lot of things, it was patently obvious he loved deeply. When he first found his wife and child in the bloody bed, his first thought was to take off after them; to follow them into oblivion. The revenge he sought was borne first of loss and utter despair, and then turned into a fight to snatch his own sanity back from the hands of a monster. Sometimes, he wondered if ego played a part in his inability to move on.

What he'd had with Lorelai in Vegas was... a damaged thread of betrayal, animal bonding and pain. Two incredibly damaged souls finding mutual ground to connect on. It was furtive and sordid and shameful, and he wouldn't let it tarnish what he had with Lisbon with a barge pole.

With Lisbon, what he did have was all that was good and right in his life. It was honest, something he hid away but wouldn't be afraid to let the light shine on. It was full of trust, respect and consideration. Might be a little twisted to the more traditional Lisbon, but it was all there.  
It made him want to be a better man. The kind of man she'd be proud to be with. But that man would not be able to undertake the goal of total revenge he'd worked for half a decade towards.

He couldn't lose sight of that goal, now that he was so close to it.

So he let Lisbon think the words were misguided, that they were more friendly than romantic. 

Very hard to stick to that decision when all he wanted to do was sink his hands into her soft hair and drag her close, keep her so sated she'd forget to look at him with the usual furrow between her brows.

Like she was doing just now.

He'd been so lost in his thoughts, he forgot that he'd been staring at her neck for the better part of a few minutes.

"Ahem."

 _Damn_.

_________

  
The knot in her shoulders felt better, but she'd straightened up to see Jane staring at her oddly. There was softness mingled in the intensity, and it flustered her deeply. 

Those words leaked from the canister she'd shoved them in.

_"... Teresa. Love you."_

It had been near impossible for her to brush those words away, even when he'd apparently done so with ease. She told herself that they were just feelings born of everything they'd been through together, the love of a partner. Like she'd done with Bosco.

She refused to remember how wrong she'd been about that.

Ever since the FBI takedown and Wainright's death, Jane had been trying, in equal parts, to open up to her about his stint in Vegas and Red John plans while keeping her at an arm's length. A little green monster kept banging at her insides when he told her about Lorelai. The honorable part of her wanted to look the other way and not remind Jane about how sordid the affair truly was. She was completely appalled at the fact that he'd gone to Lorelai _knowing_ she was Red John's mistress.

The green gremlin raged about betrayal because he came back from that episode with words of love.  
_If he really loved you, he wouldn't have slept with Lorelai_.

Thankfully, the fair Lisbon won out and Jane got to keep his dignity intact. She figured, if he was sure about how he felt, he would find a way to let her know. She knew him well enough to see through his convoluted signals, and would probably wait till he did. If he did.

Otherwise, she took all his personal confidences at face value, worked through his plans with professional clarity, and shoved the certainty of his declaration down where she couldn't reach it even when she felt like analysing them.

That way lay heartbreak and loneliness.

And right now, after the guilt trip her brother just put her through, she was definitely _not_ up to more emotional breaks just yet.

Murders were simpler than emotions. They could be cleaned up, but feelings were messier and to clean them up took more bravery than taking someone's life.

In fact, murders were mostly committed _because_ the culprits didn't want to deal with emotions in an honest manner.

Which brought her back to earth. There were none.  
No murders. Turns out she'd lied to her sister-in-law about criminals not taking days off.

She'll confess on Christmas Day.

She cleared her throat.

"What's up, Jane?"

The consultant, to his credit, shook himself out of his thoughts when he heard her. She wasn't sure if she could take that look when he was consciously applying it.

A big smile appeared on the blonde man's face.

"So, I hear you're free for Christmas?"

Rolling her eyes, she opened up yet another backlogged file on her desk. "Yeah. I guess we have a couple of days to relax. Any plans, Jane?"

Because she was staring down at the form, she didn't notice Jane's Cheshire grin widen further. 

"Yes, and you're part of it."

"What?" Lisbon's head came up, brows furrowed. If she had a few days off, she sure as hell wasn't going to spend it with the man she _wanted_ to take the break from.

This time, Jane rolled his eyes. "Lisbon, I know what you're going to say. You'll say you have plans and you want some quiet time off. But you'll spend all those days watching old movies and eating ice-cream and probably gingerbread. But you did that for Thanksgiving."

She flushed. These were the moments that Jane revealed how much he knew about her and it drove her absolutely wild. She didn't quite know if he consciously cold read her at random moments or if he did it all the time and didn't tell her most of what he noticed out of a sense of preservation, because she'd kick his ass.

Now that her brain was full of jumbled up thoughts of him, she absolutely wanted to revoke the free rein she'd given him of her mind.

"Fine." She closed the file with a snap and rested her elbows on the desk, hoping he'd get on with his 'plan'.

__________

  
He spooked her.

He could see her deliberately lower her lids, prop herself up in an authoritative stance and close the gateway to her mind. 

Too bad he knew her so well. Bad for him _and_ her. He knew she wanted him out of her mind, and being the fool that had blurted out his feelings like an awkward teenager, he was fairly certain he knew why. Still made him warm inside.

He'd ascertained that they had a few days off, so Jane wanted to do something to celebrate the holiday because he honestly wasn't sure if this would be his last Christmas with Lisbon. There was still a part of his old self, ready to die with Red John, and end his own suffering.

But since he'd become aware of burgeoning feelings for her, another part of him wanted to live, and enjoy a new start to the rest of his life knowing that he'd done what he'd promised he would do at his family's graves.   
The biggest part of him was still completely driven towards getting Red John, and living or dying was just the consequence of his revenge.

So, he decided to embrace the spirit of the season. If it was to be his last, he wanted to make sure his memory palace was filled to the brim with Lisbon's smiles.

"Why don't we spend Christmas together?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the acknowledged,  
> Over and over, your measured, well-thought out comments gave me a sense of confidence I needed in real life and to write. I'm still an average author, but you make me want to improve.
> 
> Whether this fic continues for a long time or not, thank you so much. ♡
> 
> And thank you everyone who reads and takes the time to kudos/comment.
> 
> Ree ♡


	9. Evergreen (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane and Lisbon go out for Christmas dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh. My. God. I'm so sorry for the length. 
> 
> I was also out of town so it took a bit to get back here! Hope(???) this is fine?

Lisbon looked over the few dresses she had in her closet, trying to figure out which one was appropriate for a holiday dinner with a colleague. One was a long black evening gown she'd had to buy for one of the CBI black-tie fundraisers, so, out of the question. The other three were not much better; a white, sequinned cocktail dress with a flared skirt, a dark blue print dress with a gold belt that she actually liked wearing, and a purple sundress.

They took up very little space in the wardrobe filled with somber work suits and tees. 

She worried her lip with her teeth, trying to remember if she still had any relics from her college days, simple affairs she'd looked good in for the rare frat parties she attended.

Lisbon was absolutely not going to buy a whole new dress for a simple outing with Jane. Nope.

She still had no idea why he was so adamant about going to dinner with her on Christmas Eve. Their conversation from the day before came back to her.

_"Why don't we spend Christmas together?"_

_Lisbon stared at Jane, bemused. As much of a professional social butterfly as he was, he rarely initiated outings with her. Oh, he constantly dragged her around everywhere, and did sweet little things for her even as he drove her up the wall with his insane schemes (or probably to lessen her ire with him.)_

_But family holidays were usually spent alone, poring over his Red John files, while everyone else went back to their hometown or to their loved ones. More often than not, when they all came back from their time off, well-rested and fresh, he was much worse for wear, with bags under his eyes, clothes unchanged and manic intensity still close to the surface, having been given free rein with so much time left alone._

_It was almost like he forgot to function like a human when no one from the team was around to keep an eye on him._  
_And in a morbid way, those files were a connection to the family he lost._

_"Don't you want to go over the Red John files?" she'd asked._

_"Meh." The consultant shrugged in his seat on her couch. "I've done enough for now, and if I overthink things, I'll make a mistake and he can get away again."_

_He sat upright. "Besides, we're so close to him, Lisbon, I can feel it. So why don't we take some time off, have a little dinner, go on a drive and just celebrate Christmas?"_

_Head shaking, Lisbon replied, "You never celebrate the holidays."_

_Jane gave another Gallic shrug before smiling at her. "All the more reason to do it now. So, will you go to dinner with me?"_

_"The team?"_

_"Van Pelt's going home, Rigsby's got his son for the vacation and Cho's too much like Scrooge to be able to get into the spirit of Christmas."_

_Lisbon snorted._  
_More than likely, Cho would spend the holiday reading classics alone his apartment in blessed solitude._

_Still, she wasn't sure. Not with all those feelings sloshing around her like a slow-moving toxin. Going out with Jane would only exacerbate what she was working so hard to keep to normal friendship._

_He'd never really celebrated any holiday, and while spontaneous outings with the team were fun, they never had the touch of magic and_ home _that Thanksgiving or Christmas had. Not that she'd had much of either in the last two decades, after her mum died._

_But while Lisbon might have wanted to protect herself from Jane, even she didn't have the heart to deny him a good memory. Especially when she sensed the end was looming near, and her time with him was limited._

_She simply couldn't stop the question her brain unhelpfully supplied._

What if this was his last Christmas?

_Logically speaking, they were cops. Well, everyone but Jane. They had made peace with the fact that no one knew from one day to the next, whether they would come back home when they walked out that morning._

_But it was one thing to die in action, another to walk straight into death's waiting arms. And Lisbon could never tell, after all these years, if he still wanted to die with Red John._

_The panic hurt, on top of everything else she had going on inside._

_"Fine."_

_Jane stared at Lisbon, surprised at her capitulation. Which in turn surprised her._

_"Why are you so shocked? I thought the almighty Patrick Jane would've expected and worked towards this outcome."_

_His signature mildly patronizing smirk returned. "Of course I did. I could tell you were planning on saying yes the whole time, but wanted to argue for pride's sake."_

_If that didn't get her back up..._

_"Well, then, I hope you expected this outcome too. I'm not going, you condescending jerk."_

_Jane's smirk stretched wider and he tutted._

_"No takebacks! How about that new Italian place in town?"_

And now, here she was, regretting saying yes for too many reasons. But mostly because she could find nothing to wear.

Calls from family were fielded, everyone was wished by call, text or mail and Jane had called her in the afternoon to inform her about the reservation timing. 

She still wasn't sure if she could do it. Jane would be charming and attentive, but this time, his attention wouldn't be divided amongst the team. It would be focused solely on her, and Jane's focus was legendary. If she acted too differently, he'd notice. Then he'd try to pick her apart till he got to the bottom of it.

Absolutely not.

She sighed. It was too late to call it off, and if she did, he'd still try to get to the bottom of it.

Might as well go, try to have a good time without tipping her hand.

Lisbon noticed a flash of red from the corner of her eye. She didn't recognise the item of clothing... Must be old as hell. So she dragged it out from under a pile of forgotten outfits and held it up.

A maroon wrap dress. She remembered wearing it once to a friend's bachelorette party. One of the tipsy bridesmaids had spilled her cocktail onto the skirt, so she'd had it dry cleaned, thrown it into her closet and forgotten all about it.

Slipping it on, she walked over to her full length mirror and twisted, trying to see if it still fit her. It did.

The warm colour accentuated her dark hair and green eyes. Usually, she went for blues and greens, but this red seemed to really work for her. A thin silver belt gathered in the excess material at her waist, highlighting its slenderness, while the silk draped over her hips, ending with a slight flair just above her knees.

She dug through her jewellery box for earrings, and found the emeralds Jane had gotten her from their casino case in Reno.   
He forced her to accept them when he pointed out that he'd given Van Pelt a ruby set for her wedding gift.

_"It's not fair that everyone's kept their gifts from me but you. Please take them."_

She had to admit, they looked phenomenal.

Her mother's cross was still on its chain, and she added on a dainty silver watch and a pair of black heels to complete the look. 

She rarely had chances to dress up, and she rarely _wanted_ to, so a part of her was bemused about the sudden glamming up.  
Reasoning that it was Christmas Eve and she was going to dinner with a well-dressed colleague, she felt only slightly better as she walked out to her car.

_____

  
Jane topped off her glass of wine, knowing from experience that it would take more than a couple of bottles to truly incapacitate Lisbon. 

The restaurant was small and cozy, filled almost exclusively with couples. A part of him warmed a little, realising that he and Lisbon fit right in with the crowd, a man and a woman out to dinner.

Granted, his 'date' for the evening carried a gun in her purse and he knew that if he'd copied anything the men were doing to their significant others, he'd be shot in the foot well before dinner was over.

"This risotto is incredible." Lisbon said as she nearly licked her plate clean. He laughed. The little bistro had received rave reviews for their food and ambience, and he knew he had to bring Lisbon to try it out.

His breath caught as he watched her sigh in repletion. Her eyes were lidded, and a small smile played around her lips. He was never more grateful he'd picked a cloth-napkin restaurant; his discomfort could've been picked up by any passer-by. But nothing could tear his eyes off of her face. 

An insidious little voice whispered if she looked like that after a bout of lovemaking. He squashed the image before it took root, but the blurry picture still seared into his brain. For a second, he could see her, eyes closed, mouth open, moaning and straining below him with her dark hair spilling over white pillows.

Guess they better get another bottle of wine if he wanted to stay sitting for the next hour. 

He cleared his throat. 

"Nice to see you eating something that wasn't made on an assembly line..."

Lisbon laughed, waving her napkin at him. "Hush, Jane. Those sandwiches are amazing and you know it. Who else would eat them from the fridge?"

He immediately adopted a mien of innocence. "Oh please, Lisbon, I wouldn't dream of touching something so laden in cholesterol."

A dark eyebrow went up. "So," she gestured to their empty plates, "This was _healthy_?"

The consultant just shrugged helplessly at her, while she grinned in victory.

"It's been nice, Jane."

He had to agree. When he first saw her walking towards him earlier in the evening, his eyes nearly widened to size of hamster balls. She'd looked... Not like his angry little partner at all. Oh, sure, he'd seen her beautifully gussied up for fundraisers, but she'd made it amply clear that she didn't like it.

However, here she was, dressed in a stunning little red number that cinched her tiny waist and put a warm flush on her pale skin. The dainty little ankles above skinny heels had nearly made it impossible to return her greeting. 

She looked incredible, and he hadn't been sure about making it through the evening. 

He wanted his memory palace to be full of Lisbon, but this? He'd have to make an almighty shrine for her in this dress. Her eyes were a little nervous, but they glowed as bright as... her emeralds. 

She was wearing the earrings he'd bought her.

The warmth spread from his lap all the way up to his heart.

But he hadn't been the best in his carny days for nothing. Managing to play off his reaction, he gave her a light compliment that didn't scare her and walked her into the restaurant for a long night.

Now, two bottles of wine and many buttery, cheesy dishes later, they'd managed to continue with bantering and easy companionship. 

He had to admit, this wasn't his worst idea, celebrating Christmas, especially if he could watch Lisbon's eyes glowing in the soft light across from him all through dinner.

Feeling comfortable enough to stand, he threw his napkin onto the table and held his hand out to help Lisbon out of her seat.

He fielded her questions till they were out of the restaurant, pausing in between to refuse Lisbon's offer to pay. He could see she was torn between gratitude and suspicion, so he dealt with it in true Janian fashion.

"Relax, Lisbon." He said, holding her purse above his head. "I owe you more than a dinner, but consider this a small payment towards it."

She was incensed. How dare he treat her like a stubborn child? 

"If you accept it, we can move on to dessert."

That gave her pause.   
Cocking her head, she asked, "Where are we going for dessert?"

All Jane did was give her a mysterious wink and her purse back before ushering her out to her car.  
"You'll love it, trust me."

____________

  
"Oh, yeah, this is exactly what I expected when you asked me to trust you." 

"Come on. How was I supposed to know they'd _close on Christmas Eve?_ Which store does it? What kind of shoddy business tactics do they use?"

Lisbon laughed lightly, pulling her jacket tighter around herself. It was as cold as California could get, and her knees were bare as she stared at the unlit ice-cream cafe. 

It looked cute, with four two-seat tables, ivy crawling over the windows and a pastel blue awning. A mom-and-pop ice cream shop Jane had found out from somewhere, that served, according to him, the best vanilla sundae in Sacramento.

"So, what's your plan?"

He looked somewhat crestfallen; apparently his heart had been set on ending with ice cream.

"I'm not sure... I wanted to try the sundae."

Lisbon couldn't erase the amused grin from her lips. It was funny, seeing Jane with a wrench thrown in his plans. Even if it meant she wouldn't get a great dessert.   
But she'd had fun through the night, and felt somewhat bad that it had to end like this. Before she could think things through, the question was already out of her mouth.

"Want to come back to my place and follow _my_ plan for Christmas?" 

Jane looked at her in surprise. He took a few seconds before responding. "Are you sure? We can leave off now, it's getting late anyway and sleepy Lisbon is a cranky Lisbon."

She huffed. "Do you want to or no-"

"I accept your invitation. Ice cream and old movies?" 

"Well, we have to get the ice cream, but I've got DVD's of heist movies, if you're okay with that."

Jane lit up. Looked like he agreed very much. His eyes were almost slits with how big his smile got, and Lisbon felt her heart beat a little faster. She was glad he was happy. It was going to be tough, having him near her, at home, in her safe space, but she figured she might as well give him a good memory of Christmas. Even if it didn't involve trees or decorations or cards.

She wondered how he celebrated with his family. But if ice cream and movies of smart con-men made Jane remember a good Christmas, she was okay with it. More than okay.

She smiled back at him when he eagerly bounced on his toes, his hand held out.

"Lead the way, Agent Lisbon."

__________

  
Jane sat on Lisbon's overstuffed sofa, looking over the movies she had. He'd always pegged her for a noir enthusiast, but it turned out, she liked heist movies _a lot._

He picked one, and popped it into her DVD player, ready to start while she got the sundae done at the kitchenette. She'd changed as soon as she walked through the door, grumbling about killer heels and flinging the offending footwear with a fair amount of vehemence, before retreating to her room.

She offered him a pair of her brother's sweatpants and shirt, but he declined, completely comfortable in his suit. Not to mention that he knew he was already too cozy in her apartment, a hot cup of tea at the ready and the sight of his partner in an oversized sports jersey and baggy sweatpants, face bare of any makeup.  
He vividly remembered various times he'd woken Lisbon up from her sleep on out of town cases and she'd worn similar shirts. With nothing on her slender legs. A part of him was a little disappointed she'd covered herself up, while another part crowed over the fact that she needed to do it around him. The biggest part was just grateful he didn't have to fight more temptation that night. Her legs went on for miles under the jerseys.

He couldn't control his feelings, but he could sure as hell make sure they didn't mess with his plans for Red John or the best friendship he'd ever had in his life. If dancing around them meant keeping the fragile balance, then he'd hop around till his feet bled.   
He only wished he didn't have to make her dance that much too.

He sat back in his seat, inexplicably sad and looked around her living room. Not much of a surprise to see casefiles on the kitchen table. A few photos of her brothers and their families on the side tables, a small basket of crumpled up post-its with to-do lists written on them, and a pile of packages under the desk in one corner of the hall.  
There was nothing to denote the Christmas season, no tree, no tinsel, no stockings.

But he noticed, in her corner of woefully droopy houseplants, a gold star of glass hanging precariously on the single lush green frond of an otherwise yellowing palm.

"Here we go." 

He turned to see Lisbon carrying a big soup bowl filled with what looked like a family sized serving of vanilla ice cream drizzled in chocolate syrup and a mountain of whipped cream. When she carefully placed the bowl onto the coffee table, he could see quartered strawberries on one side of the dessert hill.

"Why don't I get strawberries on my ice cream?", he asked, dismayed. 

"Because", Lisbon replied, going back to the kitchenette for a smaller bowl. "You don't like anything but pure vanilla and syrup on your sundaes." She set the bowl down on the side table closest to him. "But you can have them whole whenever you want."

It took so much of Jane not to grab her hand and kiss her senseless. She was way too sweet to him. Before any more dangerous words left him, he picked up the giant bowl and perched it onto the sofa between him and Lisbon. Handing over a spoon, they settled in comfortably on the sofa, ready to spend the next few hours watching people evade the law like geniuses.

The movie was fun, if not believable to Jane, who kept commenting about overplanning, and coming up with even more devious ways to get the job done. Lisbon tried to point out holes in his efforts, before conceding that it was probably for the best that Jane worked on her side of the law. The man could've gotten away with robbing the Hope diamond if he so wished. 

Ice cream long gone, with another bottle of wine shared through the movie, they sat at their respective ends of the couch, pleasantly worn out.

The credits were rolling when Lisbon finally turned to Jane and asked, softly, "Jane, how did you celebrate Christmas with your family?"

He felt his heart squeeze painfully as a barrage of beautiful memories came crashing down on him. He could feel his face drooping, but the rush of sadness and longing was too strong to put his invulnerable mask on.

Lisbon looked stricken. "I'm sorry if it brings up memories." she said, sitting up and holding her hands out in supplication. "I was just cur-"

"It was like any other family Christmas. Angela and I never had much of those growing up on the carny circuit, so we wanted Charlotte to have it all. The tree, the decorations, the stockings, the presents..."

He looked at Lisbon, who settled herself back and waited for him to continue. 

He could still hear Charlotte's screams of joy when she opened up her present to see a giant doll's house. She'd just reached the age where he could buy her gifts she actually wanted, and he remembered her pleading for a house to put her dolls to sleep in. She'd thrown herself into her father's arms, chattering her thanks at a mile a minute.  
Angela had bemoaned his spoiling their daughter, but he could see her joy when Charlotte danced around with her doll, describing the house to it and making plans for the other toys to visit.

For Angela, he'd bought a topaz jewellery set that brought out flecks of gold in her brown eyes. He remembered how she'd thanked him later that night, much later.   
They had a few friends over for Christmas dinner; the children ran around the house, playing while the adults drank and generally had a good time.  
It was loud and chaotic and _warm_. And he'd never had another Christmas like that again. Not when his family was snatched from him just a few months later.

He finished relaying his last Christmas at the Janes and finally glanced at Lisbon, who looked away, but not before he could see the glassiness in her eyes. His own eyes felt wet too, so he turned the other way, willing the hollowness down. 

"It sounds wonderful, Jane." Lisbon cleared her throat before continuing. "So warm and fun..." 

He could see the wistfulness enter her eyes now, and he felt a twinge in his chest. She wouldn't have had much Christmas cheer in her teens, once her mother passed away. 

"When I was a girl, we used to have Christmases just like that. Chicago would be snowing, so we'd always have a white one." She laughed in nostalgia. "My brothers would run out the door in their pajamas, and my mom would be yelling at them, convinced they'd catch their death of cold. After a few minutes, they'd come back in, half frozen and Mom would have the hot chocolate waiting. I'd be helping her out from the morning, because Christmas dinner then was a big thing in our house. My father would try to sneak bites off of the chicken, my mother would slap his hand away with a wooden spoon. So he'd ask me to be his beard and distract her while he filched a slice of cake or a tart."

Her face was bright, her eyes brighter with tears in remembered joy, memories of her father before he lost the love of his life and become an abusive alcoholic.

"Then", she continued, "Mom would haul us to church for Christmas Mass. Neighbours and friends would stop by later with cards or presents, stay for some eggnog or coffee while we opened up presents... We didn't have all that much money, but we always loved what we got. Inevitably, every single year, Tommy would set something on fire and my father would have to put it out. Then he'd complain that it felt like he was at work, and how he would rather get paid if he was going to have to do it. Mom would placate him with some extra proof eggnog, I'd sneak him another piece of dessert and then we'd go in to dinner. Sometimes there would be a few relatives over, but mostly it was just us. We'd eat while watching 'It's A Wonderful Life' every year, because it was Mom's favourite film. She'd remind us to be grateful for everything we have, sing a few carols and place a gold star ornament on the mantle in memory of her mother, who loved Christmas."

The tears were flowing freely now, and Lisbon was too caught up in her recollections to realize it. Something painful was clenching in Jane's chest; it was like a mix of happiness that atleast Lisbon had such wonderful memories in her childhood, envy because Christmas to his father was a time to fleece even more sentimental marks, and a strange sense of belonging. To Lisbon. 

She was opening up to him without even realizing it. After months of following his lead and keeping him at an arm's distance, he could feel that sense of homecoming, when she used to confide in him (albeit, after he ferreted out whatever it was, because Lisbon, after all these years, was ever the hard nut to crack).

He felt happy that she spoke to him about things she never did with anyone else, and he knew he did the same with her. As much as he tried to play around with her boundaries, it came down to solid trust. He trusted her more than anyone else in the world. He also knew that if he let his feelings run amok, he would love her more than anyone else in the world.

And wouldn't that put the biggest, brightest target on her head? 

Nothing, not even his happiness was worth his revenge or Lisbon's life.  
Not like he deserved it anyway. Not yet.

"Oh" Lisbon's voice cracked a little. "I forgot to give you something." She walked to her room, while Jane took the time to wipe his eyes and sternly pull himself back together.

"Here."

A brown bag dangled in front of his face. 

He reached out and took it from her hands, quizzically glancing at her when she plopped down next to him, far closer now than she was the whole evening.

"Open it." She pointed her chin to the bag.

He thrust his hand inside, not even bothering to guess what it was, and pulled out-

"Socks?" He put down the bag and inspected the pair of socks in his hands. They were obnoxiously red, with a snowflake and reindeer motif. Eyes wide, he stared at Lisbon in incredulity, who motioned for him to turn them over.  
On the soles, "HO HO HO" was sewn in large, white letters. 

It was hideous. 

He loved it.

Clutching the socks to his chest, he beamed. "Lisbon..." Then he held them up, looking at them seriously. "Obviously, I can only wear them for one day of the year..."

Lisbon scoffed. "Oh, hush. You could wear them to every interrogation, and you wouldn't even have to hypnotize suspects to get a confession. These babies would knock them right out."

He burst out laughing. It felt so good, the mirth coursing through his frame, warming him from the inside out on a cold night. He wiped his eyes and held his arms out to a grinning Lisbon, who leaned into them. They hugged for a long while.

"Merry Christmas, Jane."

"Merry Christmas, Lisbon. Thank you. For everything."

She snuggled into his neck with a wide smile. He sounded happy. So was she.

It was a good Christmas, spent with family after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU FOR READING, HOLY CRAP.
> 
> It's super disjointed, and quite OOC, I believe. I simply had no real idea how to plan this, and if I overthink things, nothing's gonna come out.
> 
> Patresa, my dude, your comments made me so damn NERVOUS about this chapter. ;n;  
> As always, thank you so much for your kind words and kudos.
> 
> Ree ♡


	10. Black Leather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team gets even with Jane.

Rigsby slapped a file close with a bang, grumbling under his breath. Van Pelt and Cho looked over at him in exasperation, but he couldn't will the irritation away. 

Pulling another file from the veritable mountain on his desk, he wrenched it open and started scribbling another set of notes and case details. A string of choice curses accompanied the harried scrawl.

"We weren't the ones accusing the guy, why the hell do _we_ have to do all this paperwork?", he muttered.

"Because Jane won't do it." Cho replied succintly. He was as pissed off as the rest of the team, but more composed while completing his own matching set of case forms. Didn't mean he wasn't adding fouler expletives to Rigsby's prattle, but it was in the privacy of his own head. No need to trouble anyone else with his feelings.

Van Pelt glanced at the boys. "You got him to do two weeks of paperwork for you, Cho. Think we could swing a similar bet with him?" 

Rigsby snorted. "Jane's not gonna go down a second time in the same game." 

"Guess not." The redhead sighed. She'd had plans with Craig; he wanted to take her wine-tasting and booked the outing weeks ago. He sounded disappointed when she informed him of the overtime.

Rigsby threw down another file and stretched in his seat. "Man, I was supposed to have Ben home today."

The other two made sympathetic noises from their places. They knew he got to spend precious little time with his baby son.

None of them had thought the case would go this sideways. A little off was always to be expected with Jane on a case. But he'd royally screwed up by deliberately accusing the suspect, a state senator's brother, of embezzlement and adultery to smoke out the real perp. And he did it in public. 

They could almost see Lisbon's soul leave her body for a second after he did it. 

The case had been wrapped up with alacrity after that, but the guy had been so incensed by the fraudulent charges and damage to his reputation that he went straight to Bertram, who passed along the fury to Lisbon in the form of a meeting and two trolley cartfuls of complaint and apology files.

Poor Lisbon took the heat for them, as usual, and managed to keep their disciplinary records clean and Jane still in the CBI. The imbecile in question had skipped out blithely to his attic room and hadn't been seen since, leaving the rest of them to wade through more paperwork than a government notary. 

Van Pelt leaned forward, propping up her head with a hand. "Wish there was some way we could get him back..." She was in no mood to finish her pile when she could've been on her way to a romantic night out right then.

Rigsby swiveled in his chair to look at Lisbon's office; they could see her methodically working through a stack of files almost double the size of each of theirs, eyebrows furrowed savagely. They could also see her mouth moving, apparently biting out curses. Words like ' _Jane'_ and _'asshole'_ could be made out.

Fair enough, if anyone deserved to tear a strip off the consultant, it was their boss. The poor woman had to deal with his crap everyday, along with the extra work he brought with him in thoughtless enjoyment.  
She was like a shield, protecting her junior agents from Jane and the crapstorm that followed him like a bad gypsy curse at the expense of her own career.

Truly, being the team that closed cases fastest in the state brought nothing but misery if the team included Patrick Jane.

Cho stopped writing, and straightened up with a determined air, startling the other two.

"Remember those two weeks he had to do my work? One of his options was stealing Lisbon's shoes."

"Okay...?", said Rigsby and Van Pelt in unison.

"So let's do it."

Rigsby froze in his seat, and Van Pelt's elbow slipped off the table in her surprise.

Rigs was the first to recover. "I'm in. Grace?", he asked, turning to the redhead.

"I don't know, guys... Isn't it childish?" Her reticence was to be expected. Van Pelt was incredibly straightlaced when it came to the workplace.

"Yeah, it _is_ childish, which is why Jane's gonna be her number one suspect." Cho had apparently given the idea a good amount of thought.

And if he was so willing to pull a frat prank, he must be as pissed as the rest of them, even if it didn't show on his face.  
Guess it was settled.

All three of them glanced at Lisbon's office, noticed that she hadn't looked up once in all their time in conversation, and simultaneously walked over to the kitchenette, stretching along the way.

They stood by the island, Rigsby grabbing cups while Van Pelt made a fresh pot of coffee. Cho kept his head down, in complete silence as he tried to come up with the smoothest way to put their plan into action.

"Okay, so, I think I've got it." He accepted a mug from Van Pelt, before sitting at the little table on the side with her. Rigsby settled himself onto the edge of the counter, practically vibrating in anticipation.

"We'll have to get Jane down to the bullpen, preferably Rigsby's desk, and make conversation. It's got to look like you're talking about Lisbon, cuz she needs to see him look at her. Once that's done, we need to wait till she takes a nap. She'll always do it if she gets a cup of tea. Her shoes come off, and that's when we get in." Van Pelt was about to interrupt, so he held up a hand to stall her.

"Then we get dinner, make Jane stay down long enough for one of us to go up there and place the shoes under his bed."

Cho sat back and watched his friends digest the plan. No one said execution was easy, but he was ticked off enough to do it.

Van Pelt finally spoke up. "Cho, that's all well and good, but what if he figures out what we're doing?"

Rigsby scoffed at her fears. "He's smart as a whip, but the three of us can outsmart him atleast this once. Remember what he's always said? No such thing as psychics."

She calmed down a little. "That's a fair point."

"We've never done anything like this before, so I say we've got an element of surprise in play here. To that effect, neither one of them will expect something this childish, so Lisbon's going to aim straight for Jane. It should work." Cho nodded firmly.

Well, that was it. If Cho was sure, they could pull it off.

Ready to put their heist in action, they got up from their seats and headed back to the bullpen.

_________

"Jane, give them back!" 

They could hear Lisbon shout through the attic door before she pounded on it with what sounded like a fist.

They'd watched as she marched out of her office in only her socks, and up the stairs, and smirked at each other, ready for the showdown.

It had been surprisingly simple to pull off.   
When Jane had ambled down for a cup of tea, Rigsby got him over to his desk and asked him to perform a magic trick, on the pretext of playing it with Ben. Jane immediately cooperated, spending the next quarter hour patiently teaching him how to move his hands and make the coin disappear. Then, Rigsby mentioned something about Lisbon being extremely angry at him over something she refused to talk to them about, which got them the reaction they wanted.

He stared at Lisbon through her office window for a solid minute, apparently trying to figure out exactly what he could have done that wasn't already public knowledge. Lisbon, of course, had seen him staring, and after almost two hours of wading through the offending files Jane had put on her desk, she was angry enough to give him the cut direct, her mouth tightening till it was white around the corners.

Jane had smiled insouciantly back at her, before heading back up to his room with his cup of tea in hand.

A few minutes after that, Van Pelt had taken over some tea to Lisbon, who looked ready to keel over. She felt bad for the stress her boss was going through, which strengthened her resolve to make Jane pay.

A half hour later, it was nearly dinner time when they watched Lisbon get up from her desk and wander tiredly to her sofa, flopping down with an arm over her eyes.

This time, it was Cho who undertook the stealth mission, his old gangster skills coming into play as he broke in and incredibly quietly, nabbed the boots in under fifteen seconds, before closing the door with all the care of a nuclear reactor technician.

Ten more minutes later, the Chinese takeout was brought in and Jane was called down to partake of it, which he did. Turned out, wrecking people's days worked up quite an appetite in him. When he pointed out that Lisbon wasn't joining them, they told him that she'd been too stressed lately and would probably appreciate the sleep more than food. 

Then Van Pelt slipped away to the 'ladies' room', picking up the boots from its hidey hole in one of the kitchen's many cabinets, and waited till Jane's attention was caught by Cho's story of a strange ex-girlfriend, before hightailing it to his room with a very light step. 

Luckily, Jane had left his door open so she darted in, placed the shoes under his bed, and quietly left, making sure to clomp her feet on the way back to the table.

If Jane could see a noticable uptick in his team's mood, he never mentioned it.

Which brought them back to the absolute inferno raging above their heads, while Lisbon noisily tore through Jane's room. They could hear the consultant's confused questions, and their boss was having none of it.

_"IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT'S HAPPENING, WHY ARE MY SHOES UNDER YOUR BED?!"_

Measured tones tried to argue Jane's innocence, but Lisbon didn't bother listening to any of it. Her louder voice was clearly audible to the three joyous agents below, who ate every word of it.

"No one else is childish enough to do this, Jane!"

Bemused mumbling.

"As if they have the time to do something like this when they're pulling the slack _y_ _our_ schemes created!"

Even more confused protests of innocence.

"No, they haven't. They haven't left their desks all night, Jane!"

Silence.

"If you think I'm in the mood to be wheedled out of your crappy games, Jane, you need medication. I'm going home."

The three agents quickly got back to work, hearing Lisbon's shoes clunk down hard on the metal staircase. 

"Boss...?" Van Pelt turned in her chair to look at Lisbon, her face an angelic mask of confusion.

"I'm going home, have a good one." Lisbon snapped. Out of the corners of their eyes, they watched her cram some files into her bag, heft it onto her shoulder and stalk out without a word.

In the meanwhile, Jane had walked down to the bullpen in a daze.   
He looked like a bomb had gone off next to him; which it kind of did.

"You guys know how Lisbon's shoes ended up under my bed?"

Cho was the one who answered Jane, looking right in his eyes. "No. We've been here all night, trying to put a dent in these files."

Rigsby and Van Pelt murmured in the negative as well. 

It took so much for them not to smirk when Jane ambled over to his bullpen couch and sank into it. 

They'd pulled it off, and damn if it didn't make the paperwork so much easier to complete.

________

Jane lay on his couch, a small smile on his face. They were good, he'd give them that. But unfortunately for Lisbon's Angels, he'd been near the kitchen when they came up with the plan. High and tight, expected of Cho. He respected it enough to play into it, staring at Lisbon longer than necessary so that she'd notice him, and leaving his attic door open.

And really, even he knew he'd screwed them over with the crap Bertram gave them all about the senator's brother. He'd lost his patience and went for a higher profile bust.   
They deserved to get one over him, and he wondered if they would've truly gotten him had he not overheard the whole thing.   
As for Lisbon... An ice cream sundae with strawberries might do the trick. Tomorrow.

For now, after the spectacular chewing out he just got, he deserved a cup of tea and napping to the soothing sound of pens scratching on paper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no real way Jane wouldn't have figured things out, even late in the game. Man's a master observer.
> 
> And really, after all bureaucratic crap he hands them while he focuses on Red John, they deserve a little revenge of their own.
> 
> As always, thank you for your kudos and comments!
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> Ree ♡


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